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,RY 

UNIVERSITY  OF     I 


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'.  E. 


FROM    THE    HUB 


TO    THE    HUDSON 


WITH   SKETCHES   OF 


Nature,  History  and  Industry 


IN 


NORTH-WESTERN     MASSACHUSETTS, 


BY 


WASHINGTON  .GLADDEN. 


BOSTON: 

THE  NEW  ENGLAND   NEWS  COMPANY. 
1869. 


LOAN  STACK 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

WASHINGTON  GLADDEN, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of 

Massachusetts. 


SAMUEL  BOWLES  &  COMPANY, 

Electrotypers,  Printers  and  Binders, 

SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 


PREFACE. 


IN  the  collection  of  materials  for  this  little  book 
I  have  been  assisted  by  many  friends;  among  whom 
are  Messrs.  Stevens  of  the  Mansion  House  in  Green 
field;  and  Rev.  Robert  Crawford,  D.  D.,  Nathaniel 
Hitchcock,  Esq.,  and  Dr.  Charles  Williams  of  Deer- 
field.  Hitchco'ck's  Geological  Report,  Holland's  His 
tory  of  Western  Massachusetts,  Hoyt's  Indian  Wars, 
Barber's  Historical  Collections,  and  the  various  re 
ports  of  Commissioners  and  Engineers  upon  the 
Hoosac  Tunnel,  have  been  of  great  service  to  me. 
The  engravings  of  the  Tunnel  were  executed  from 
photographs  by  Messrs.  Kurd  &  Ward  of  North 
Adams. 

The  book  is  built  on  these  two  maxims : 

1.  History  begins  at  home. 

2.  It  is   better  to  see   one  town  from  all  its  hill 
tops  than  five  hundred  towns  from  the  car  windows. 

The    reader    will    find    upon    its    pages    extended 

223 


IV  PREFACE. 

notices  of  various  persons  and  industries.  I  ask 
him  to  take  my  word  for  it  that  these  are  not  pur 
chased  puffs,  and  they  were  not  prompted  by  that 
species  of  gratitude  peculiar  to  politicians — "  a  lively 
sense  of  favors  yet  to  come." 

My  first  purpose  was  to  let  the  book  be  anony 
mous,  from  a  foolish  feeling  that  such  work  might 
be  considered  unprofessional;  but  I  have  concluded 
that  the  attempt  to  show  people  how  and  where  they 
may  cheaply  and  pleasantly  spend  their  few  days  of 
summer  vacation — often  the  dreariest  days  of  the 
year — is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  or  apologized 
for.  A  book  that  helps  anybody  to  see  and  enjoy 
the  Connecticut  Valley  or  the  Berkshire  Hills,  will 
be  likely  to  do  less  harm  than  a  book  about  the 
Mode  of  Baptism  or  the  Origin  of  Evil.  I  do  not, 
however,  pretend  to  have  been  wholly  actuated  by 
considerations  of  benevolence.  I  have  enjoyed  the 
writing  of  the  book.  It  may  be  death  to  my 
readers,  but  it  has  been  sport  for  me. 

The  rest  of  the  preface  will  be  found  in  the  body 
of  the  book.  W.  G. 

NORTH  ADAMS,  May  i,  1869. 


From  the  Hub  to  the  Hudson. 


CHAPTER   I. 

FROM   BOSTON  TO   GREENFIELD. 

A  CERTAIN  Vermont  Yankee,  extolling,  as  Yan 
kees  are  wont  to  do,  the  town  of  his  nativity, 
mentioned  as  one  of  its  distinguishing  peculiarities  the 
remarkable  fact  that  you  could  start  from  there  to  go 
to  any  place  in  creation.  The  Yankee  who  hails  from 
Boston  may,  without  exceeding  his  usual  modesty,  make 
the  same  claim  for  the  place  of  his  residence.  Boston 
is  a  good  place  to  start  from.  Indeed  it  is  said  that 
pretty  much  everything  that  moves  in  this  world  has 
started,  or  does  start,  from  Boston.  Here  the  fires  of 
revolutionary  patriotism  were  kindled ;  here  is  Faneuil 
Hall,  and  the  Old  South  Church ;  here  John  Hancock 
learned  to  write  that  large  hand  which  so  boldly  leads 
the  column  of  signatures  to  the  famous  declaration ; 
here  Adams  spoke,  and  Otis  wrote,  and  Warren  fought 
and  fell.  Out  of  Boston  came  the  Radical  Abolition- 


6       FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

ists  •  forth  from  Boston  proceed  the  apostoli  and  the 
apostolae  of  the  new  gospel  of  Woman  Suffrage ;  and 
from  the  pent-up  confines  of  this  crooked  town  issue 
those  twin  prodigies  of  literature  and  statesmanship, 
George  Francis  Train  and  the  Count  Johannes.  Who 
can  deny  that  Boston  is  the  proper  base  of  all  opera 
tions,  and  the  perspective  point  from  which  the  world 
must  be  pictured  and  regarded  ? 

It  was  inevitable,  then,  that  our  book  should  begin 
at  Boston.  And  as  charity  which  begins  at  home  is 
often  greatly  minded  to  stay  there,  so  the  book  which 
begins  at  Boston  is  not  likely  to  get  far  beyond  it. 
Being  at  the  center  of  the  universe,  the  centripetal 
force  is  almost  irresistible.  But  the  centrifugal  im 
pulses  are  sometimes  felt,  even  in  Boston,  as  every 
body  knows,  and  taking  advantage  of  the  first  wave  of 
outward  movement,  we  will  fly  from  the  hub  toward 
the  periphery. 

Very  likely,  however,  there  will  be  numerous  travel 
ers  seeking  the  shadows  of  the  Berkshire  hills  and  the 
quiet  of  the  Connecticut  meadows,  for  whom  Boston 
will  not  be  the  natural  starting-point.  It  is  not  given 
to  all  of  us  to  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  this  classic 
town,  nor  to  be  blown  upon  by  its  east  winds,  nor  to 
sneeze  with  its  influenza.  And  such  as  have  been 
denied  these  happy  distinguishments  of  fortune  may 
not  care  to  read  any  further  in  this  chapter.  From 
them  we  will  part  company  here,  in  the  hope  of  meet 
ing  them  a  little  nearer  to  sunset. 

One  word  before  we  go  any  further.     This  is  not  a 


NOT   A   GUIDE-BOOK.  7 

guide-book.  If  you  bought  it  for  that,  you  are  badly 
cheated.  The  guide-book  knows  everything ;  and 
there  are  a  great  many  things  that  this  little  book  does 
not  know.  The  guide-book  stops  at  all  the  towns  ; 
this  book  will  trundle  right  through  many  of  them,  not 
even  halting  five  minutes  for  refreshments.  The  guide 
book  knows  just  how  many  meeting-houses,  court 
houses,  school-houses,  banks,  jails,  mills,  stores,  each 
town  contains  ;  how  long  all  the  rivers  are  ;  how  deep 
the  lakes  ;  how  high  the  mountains.  This  little  book 
confesses  its  ignorance  of  many  of  these  things.  It 
does  not  mean  to  burden  its  readers  with  many  statis 
tics  ;  it  seeks  to  be  a  pleasant  companion  not  only  to 
railway  travelers,  but  also  to  fireside  travelers.  And 
if,  without  attempting  any  exhaustive  account  of  the 
region  where  its  scenes  are  laid,  it  shall  succeed  in 
calling  attention  to  some  of  its  most  attractive  features, 
and  in  bringing  back  some  of  the  associations  of  the 
olden  time,  the  end  for  which  it  was  written  will  be 
attained. 

All  this  might  have  been  said  in  the '  preface,  but 
people  never  read  prefaces. 

Having  a  good  start  and  a  fair  understanding,  we 
roll  out  of  the  noble  granite  passenger-house  of  the 
Fitchburg  Railway,  and  are  soon  crossing  the  Charles 
River  upon  one  of  the  many  viaducts  and  bridges 
which  span  that  stream.  To  the  right  is  Charlestown, 
with  Breed's  Hill  and  Bunker's  Hill;  the  former  of 
which  is  crowned  by  the  famous  obelisk  that  marks 
the  spot  where  Prescott  and  Putnam  and  their  brave 


Jv- 


8       FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

provincials  planted  the  tree  of  liberty  \  the  latter  of 
which  is  surmounted  by  a  costly  Roman  Catholic 
cathedral.  Bunker  Hill  monument  divides  the  honors 
now  with  half  a  dozen  brick  smoke-stacks ;  some  of 
which  appear  from  this  point  even  taller  than  the 
monumental  shaft.  So,  too  often,  are  the  great  events 
of  history  overtopped  or  obscured  by  the  nearer  but 
meaner  facts  of  daily  use  and  custom. 

On  the  left,  the  old  bridge  crosses  from  Boston  to 
Cambridgeport ;  and  on  the  top  of  Beacon  Hill  the 
dome  of  the  State  House  remains  the  most  conspicuous 
figure  of  the  landscape,  well  guarded  by  the  sentinel 
spires  of  Park  Street  and  Somerset  Street  churches. 

East  Cambridge  welcomes  us  to  its  hospitable,  but 
not  very  attractive  shores  ;  and  the  view  we  get  of  old 
Cambridge,  further  on,  is  not  one  that  does  justice  to 
its  beauty.  Is  it  Holmes,  or  was  it  Hawthorne,  who 
once  told  us  that  the  railroads  almost  always  take  us  past 
the  back  doors  and  show  us  the  worst  sides  of  houses 
and  towns  ?  The  rule  has  some  exceptions,  but  old 
Cambridge  is  not  one  of  them.  There  is  an  excellent 
flavor  of  age  and  respectability  about  this  ancient  town, 
if  you  know  how  to  take  it.  "  Doubtless  God  could 
have  made  a  better,  but  doubtless  he  never  did,"  quoth 
our  worthy  Hosea  Biglow.  We  shall  be  compelled  to 
take  his  word  for  it,  while  we  whistle  through  the  out 
skirts  of  what  might,  but  for  a  few  ancient  elms  along 
the  railway,  pass  for  a  first-class  western  "  city." 

JBelmont  next  puts  in  an  excellent  appearance.  It  is 
one  of  the  neatest  of  the  "subhubs  •"  its  charming  resi- 


WAVERLY   AND    WALTHAM.  9 

dences  on  either  side  the  railway  must  prove  a  delight 
ful  resort  to  men  whose  days  are  spent  in  the  narrow 
and  noisy  streets  of  Boston. 

Waverly  is  a  pleasant  name  for  a  pleasant  place. 
Like  the  capital  of  the  country,  it  is  a  village  of  mag 
nificent  distances  ;  like  the  other  Waverly,  it  is  largely 
a  work  of  fiction,  though  founded  on  fact. 

Waltham — here  we  come  to  the  solid  realities  again. 
This  is  the  western  end  of  old  Watertown,  and  was 
separately  incorporated  in  1738.  The  occasion  of  the 
division  t)f  the  town  was  a  church  quarrel.  The  old 
church  edifice  was  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  town,  and 
the  inhabitants  of  that  section  were  determined  to  keep 
it  there  ;  but  the  star  of  empire  led  the  tides  of  popula 
tion  westward ;  and  since  the  dwellers  in  the  ancient 
burg  would  not  be  content  with  the  church  that  was 
built  midway,  they  were  obliged  to  have  the  town 
divided,  and  the  Walthamites  sat  down  under  their 
own  vine  and  fig-tree,  by  the  banks  of  the  smooth 
flowing  Charles.  Waltham  is  a  very  substantial  and 
thrifty  town  of  something  less  than  ten '  thousand  in 
habitants.  Eight  churches  offer  to  worshipers  all 
varieties  of  faith  and  form ;  a  public  library  of  4,500 
volumes  carries  on  the  education  begun  in  the  excel 
lent  schools  ;  a  Savings'  Bank  holds  the  accumulations 
of  the  mechanics  and  operatives  who  constitute  the 
population ;  and  two  weekly  newspapers,  one  radical 
and  the  other  neutral,  furnish  those  of  the  people  who 
are  not  able  to  think  for  themselves  with  ready  made 
opinions  on  all  sorts  of  subjects. 


IO      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

The  large  brick  factory  on  your  left,  nearly  opposite 
the  railway  station,  is  the  cotton  mill  of  the  Boston 
Manufacturing  Company.  Here  was  erected,  in  1814, 
the  first  power-loom  for  cotton  weaving  ever  operated 
in  America.  In  this  large  establishment,  (then  much 
smaller  than  now,)  the  great  cotton  manufacturing 
interest  in  America  had  its  origin.  A  little  pamphlet, 
by  Hon.  Nathan  Appleton  of  Boston,  giving  the  history 
of  the  beginning  and  the  growth  of  this  enterprise,  is  as 
interesting  as  a  romance,  not  only  to  all  who  make 
cotton  goods  but  to  all  who  wear  them.  The  project 
was  formed  by  Mr.  Francis  C.  Lowell,  while  in  Edin 
burgh,  in  the  year  1811.  At  that  place  he  and  Mr. 
Appleton  discussed  the  practicability  of  weaving  cotton 
cloth  by  power ;  and  before  he  returned  to  this  country 
Mr.  Lowell  visited  Manchester  to  gain  all  possible 
information  upon  the  subject.  As  the  result  of  these 
deliberations,  the  Boston  Manufacturing  Company  was 
formed  in  1813,  this  water-privilege  at  Waltham  was 
purchased,  and  the  machinery  was  procured. 

"  The  power-loom  was  at  this  time  being  introduced 
in  England ;  but  its  construction  was  kept  very  secret, 
and,  after  many  failures,  public  opinion  was  not  favor 
able  to  its  success.  Mr.  Lowell  had  obtained  all  the 
information  which  was  practicable  about  it,  and  was 
determined  to  perfect  it  himself.  He  was  for  some 
months  experimenting  at  a  store  in  Broad  Street, 
employing  a  man  to  turn  a  crank.  It  was  not  until 
the  new  building  at  Waltham  was  completed,  and  other 
machinery  was  running,  that  the  first  loom  was  ready 


THE    FIRST    POWER    LOOM.  II 

for  trial.  Many  little  matters  were  to  be  overcome  or 
adjusted  before  it  would  work  perfectly.  Mr.  Lowell 
said  to  me  that  he  did  not  wish  me  to  see  it  until  it 
was  complete,  of  which  he  would  give  me  notice.  At 
length  the  time  arrived.  He  invited  me  to  go  out 
with  him  and  see  the  loom  operate.  I  well  remember 
the  state  of  admiration  and  satisfaction  with  which  we 
sat  by  the  loom ;  watching  the  beautiful  movement  of 
this  new  and  wonderful  machine,  destined,  as  it  evi 
dently  was,  to  change  the  character  of  all  textile 
industry.  This  was  in  the  autumn  of  1814. 

"  Mr.  Lowell's  loom  was  different  in  several  partic 
ulars  from  the  English  loom,  which  was  afterwards 
made  public.  The  principal  movement  was  by  a 
cam,  revolving  with  an  eccentric  motion,  which  has 
since  given  place  to  the  crank  motion  now  univer 
sally  used.  Some  other  minor  improvements  have 
since  .been  introduced,  mostly  tending  to  give  it  in 
creased  speed. 

"  The  article  first  made  at  Waltham  was  precisely  the 
article  of  which  a  large  portion  of  the  manufacture  of 
the  country  has  continued  to  consist — a  heavy  sheeting 
of  No.  14  yarn,  37  inches  wide,  44  picks  to  the  inch, 
and  weighing  something  less  than  three  yards  to  the 
pound."*  * 

These  goods  were  sold  in  1816  for  30  cents  per 
yard ;  in  1819,  for  21  cents ;  in  1826,  for  13  cents;  in 
1829,  for  8.1-2  cents;  in  1843,  for  6  1-2  cents, — the 
lowest  figure  they  ever  reached.  They  are  now  (March, 

*  Introduction  of  the  Power  Loom :  By  Nathan  Appleton. 


12      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

1869,)  quoted  in  the  New  York  wholesale  markets  at 
about  13  cents  a  yard. 

The  property  of  this  company  now  consists  of  two 
mills  for  making  cloth,  containing  40,000  spindles  and 
700  looms ;  one  mill  for  making  hosiery,  turning  out 
about  600  dozen  per  day;  and  a  bleachery  and  dye 
works,  with  facilities  for  bleaching  and  dyeing  about 
six  millions  of  pounds  of  cotton  cloth  per  annum.  It 
employs  about  1,300  hands,  and  has  a  capital  stock  of 
$600,000. 

Another  famous  industrial  establishment  is  found  at 
Waltham.  As  we  leave  the  village  going  westward, 
the  shops  of  the  Waltham  Watch  Company  down  by 
the  banks  of  the  river  attract  our  notice.  The  main 
building  is  more  than  300  feet  long,  with  wings  and 
cross-wings  more  than  doubling  this  space.  Three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  of  benches  are  surrounded  by  750 
operators,  about  one-third  of  whom  are  women  and 
girls  of  American  parentage.  If  you  should  walk 
up  the  main  street  in  time  to  meet  these  work 
people  going  to  dinner,  you  would  be  pleasantly  im 
pressed  by  their  intelligent  countenances,  their  neat 
attire,  and  their  orderly  manners.  You  might  travel 
far  before  meeting  in  one  company  no  larger  than  this 
an  equal  number  of  thoughtful  and  cultivated  faces. 
Since  about  350,000  of  the  watches  made  by  this  com 
pany  have  found  their  way  into,  the  pockets  of  the 
American  people,  it  is  safe  to  suppose  that  its  history 
and  its  methods  of  operation  are  not  altogether  un 
known.  Unlike  the  Swiss  and  other  foreign  watches, 


THE  WATCHES  OF  WALTHAM.        13 

every  part  of  the  Waltham  watch  is  made  by  some 
delicate  and  ingenious  machine.  No  such  large  manu 
factories  of  watches  are  found  in  the  Old  World.  In 
Geneva,  since  all  the  work  is  done  by  hand,  the  opera 
tives  take  it  to  their  homes,  and  each  one  spends  his 
life-time  in  making  one  particular  piece  of  the  mechan 
ism.  Machine  work  being  more  uniform  and  accurate 
than  hand  work,  the  Waltham  watches  ought  to  keep 
better  time  than  foreign  watches,  and  this  we  believe 
is  the  verdict  of  experience. 

This  view  on  our  left  as  we  leave  the  village  of 
Waltham  is  a  very  charming  one, — the  Charles  River 
at  our  feet  in  the  foreground,  and  winding  gracefully 
through  the  valley ;  the  village  of  Waltham,  scattered 
over  an  undulating  plain,  and  the  low  hills  in  the  dis 
tance  toward  Newton. 

Stony  Brook  is  the  name  of  the  next  station.  The 
brook  which  gives  the  station  its  name  is  in  the  fore 
ground  on  the  right,  and  is  not  remarkably  stony  either. 
Weston  comes  next,  and  a  single  fact  in  its  history 
must  suffice  us.  After  having  been  twice  directed  to 
procure  a  preacher,  this  town  was  at  length,  in  1706, 
prosecuted  at  the  Court  of  Sessions  for  not  having  a 
settled  minister.  The  instances  are  not  frequent  in 
our  day,  let  us  trust,  in  which  people  are  compelled  to 
resort  to  the  law  in  order  to  obtain  the  gospel. 

Lincoln  is  only  a  crossing  and  a  depot ;  leaving 
which,  we  are  soon  plunging  into  the  Walden  woods, 
and  skirting  along  the  Walden  pond,  made  immortal 
by  the  hermit  of  Concord.  It  is  a  beautiful  region. 


14      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

The  quiet  woods  and  the  placid  lake  might  tempt  to 
hermithood  one  less  fond  of  nature  than  Thoreau.  On 
the  western  shore  of  the  lake,  however,  we  discover 
evidences  that  this  solitude  would  not  be  so  welcome 
to  the  gentle  philosopher  if  he  should  return  to  it. 
Here  are  huts,  and  swings,  and  platforms,  designed  to 
accommodate  picnics ;  and  it  is  more  than  likely  if 
the  day  is  pleasant  that  the  woods  are  filled  with  a  frolic- 
ing  company  of  Sunday-school  children,  or  a  crowd  of 
Teutons  guzzling  lager,  and  singing  about "  der  Doitcher 
Fodderlant."  Just  beyond  the  woods,  a  wide  view  opens 
on  the  left  across  level  meadows,  and  in  the  western 
horizon  Mount  Wachusett,  nearly  thirty  miles  distant, 
in  the  town  of  Princeton,  is  plainly  seen  on  a  clear  day. 

The  next  shriek  of  the  locomotive  means  discord  if 
it  means  anything;  but  the  conductor  looking  in  just 
now,  says  "  Concord; "  and  it  is  impossible  to  doubt 
him.  "In  1635,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  Musketaquid 
was  purchased  from  the  Indians  and  called  Concord, 
on  account  of  the  peaceable  manner  in  which  it  was 
obtained."  Strange  that  the  town  which  was  so  ami- 
cably-eettled  should  have  been  the  town  where  the  first 
battle  of  the  revolution  was  fought !  In  Johnson's 
"  Wonder  Working  Providence"  a  quaint  old  Puritan 
record,  we  find  some  account  of  the  early  settlers. 
After  describing  the  miserable  huts  in  which  they  first 
found  shelter,  he  goes  on  to  say : 

"  Yet  in  these  poor  wigwams  they  sing  psalmes,  pray 
and  praise  their  God  till  they  can  provide  them  houses, 
which  ordinarily  was  not  wont  to  be  with  many  till  the 


THE  PIONEERS  OF  CONCORD.        15 

earth  by  the  Lord's  blessing  brought  forth  bread  to 
feed  them,  their  wives  and  their  little  ones,  which  with 
sore  labours  they  attain ;  every  one  that  can  lift  a  hoe 
to  strike  it  into  the  earth  standing  stoutly  to  their 
labours,  and  tear  up  the  rootes  and  bushes  which  the 
first  yeare  bears  them  a  very  thin  crop,  till  the  soard  of 
the  earth  be  rotten,  and  therefore  they  have  been  forced 
to  cut  their  bread  very  thin  for  a  long  season.  But  the 
Lord  is  pleased  to  provide  for  them  great  store  of  fish 
in  the  spring  time,  and  especially  Alewives  about  the 
bignesse  of  a  Herring.  Many  thousands  of  these  they 
used  to  put  under  their  Indian  corn  which  they  plant 

in  hills  five  foote  asunder The  want  of  English 

graine,  wheate,  barley  and  rice  proved  a  sore  affliction 
to  some  stomacks  who  could  not  live  upon  Indian 
bread  and  water,  yet  were  they  compelled  to  it  till 
cattell  increased  and  the  plowes  could  but  goe.  Instead 
of  apples  and  pears  they  had  pomkins  and  squashes 

of  divers  kinds Thus  this  poore  people  populate 

this  howling  desert,  marching  manfully  on  (the  Lord 
asisting)  through  the  greatest  difficulties  and  sorest 
labors  that  ever  any  with  such  weak  means  have  done." 
Under  such  schooling  as  this  the  men  of  Concord 
learned  the  steadfastness  and  heroism  that  they  needed 
in  after  days.  The  stuff  that  was  bred  in  them  by 
these  hardships  was  inherited  by.  their  descendants; 
and  at  length,  one  bright  morning,  a  hundred  and  forty 
years  after  this  battle  with  hunger  and  cold  was  begun, 
the  echoes  of  a  more  illustrious  if  not  a  fiercer  conflict 
were  heard  among  the  Concord  Hills. 


1 6      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

It  would  be  worth  our  while,  could  we  spare  a  few 
hours  in  our  journey,  to  stop  at  this  ancient  town,  and 
take  a  stroll  through  its  quiet  streets,  and  its  memora 
ble  places.  We  should  find  it  a  remarkably  well-pre 
served  old  village  ;  not  a  squalid  building  is  to  be  seen ; 
many  of  the  houses  bear  marks  of  age,  but  all  are  neat 
and  many  are  tasteful  and  elegant.  The  principal 
street  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  in  New  England. 
There  is  not  much  noise  of  business,  but  an  air  of 
thrift  and  cultivation  pervades  the  place.  Here  have 
dwelt  and  are  dwelling  now  a  larger  number  of  famous 
people  than  one  small  village  commonly  contains. 
Here  our  great  Hawthorne  lived  and  died.  Here 
Marcus  Antoninus  reappears  with  the  physiognomy  of 
a  true  Yankee,  bearing  the  title  of  the  "  Sage  of  Con 
cord,"  and  answering  to  the  name  of  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson ;  here  Alcott  the  seer,  and  his  daughter 
Louisa,  whose  vision  is  not  much  duller,  than  her 
father's,  spend  their  days ;  here  the  brilliant  Thoreau 
found  a  residence,  and  here  those  who  loved  and  cared 
for  him  to  the  last  are  living  yet ;  here  is  the  home 
of  Mrs.  Jane  G.  Austin,  one  whom  the  novel-reading 
world  knows  well ;  here  Frederick  Hudson,  for  many 
years  the  wheel-horse  of  the  New  York  Herald,  is 
trying  to  repair  the  frame  he  has  broken  with  too 
much  toil ;  here  dwells  Judge  Hoar,  the  jurist,  the 
scholar,  the  orator,  the  wit,  and  the  noblest  Ro 
man  of  them  all.  Time  would  fail  us  if  we  tried  to 
note  the  stars  of  lesser  magnitude  in  the  Concord 
constellation. 


WHO    BEGUN    IT.  I/ 

Any  one  will  show  you  the  road  that  leads  to  the 
spot  where  on  the  igth  of  April,  1775,  tne  Revolution 
ary  War  began.  The  day  before,  at  Lexington,  the 
American  militia  had  been  fired  on  by  Pitcairn's  British 
regulars,  and  eight  of  them  had  been  killed ;  but  no 
shot  was  fired  in  return.  Here,  where  the  North  Bridge 
formerly  crossed  the  Concord  River,  the  first  battle 
was  fought.  The  bridge  is  now  removed,  and  the 
highway  which  led  to  it  is  enclosed  ;  but  a  monument 
marks  the  spot  where  the  British  soldiers  were  posted 
when  the  engagement  began,  and  directly  across  the 
river  in  what  is  now  a  quiet  meadow,  the  place  is  seen 

where 

"  the  embattled  farmers  stood 
And  fired  the  shot  heard  round  the  world." 

The  British,  as  everybody  knows,  had  gained  pos 
session  of  the  town,  and  were  destroying  the  stores 
gathered  by  the  provincials  in  anticipation  of  war; 
while  the  militiamen  had  assembled  outside  the  village, 
and  across  the  stream,  partly  because  unwilling  to 
begin  hostilities,  partly  because  greatly  inferior  in 
numbers  to  the  forces  of  the  king.  But  before  the  sun 
was  high,  military  companies  from  the  adjoining  towns 
began  to  arrive,  and  volunteers  from  all  parts  of  Con 
cord  came,  with  such  weapons  as  they  could  find,  to 
increase  the  force,  until  the  number  had  grown  to  two 
hundred  and  fifty  or  three  hundred.  Then,  though 
greatly  outnumbered  by  the  British  regulars,  they 
"  deliberately,  with  noble  patriotism  and  firmness,  re 
solved  to  march  into  the  middle  of  the  town  to  de- 


1 8      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

fend  their  homes,  or  die  in  the  attempt ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  they  resolved  not  to  fire  unless  first  fired 
upon." 

If  they  had  known  what  had  happened  the  day 
before  at  Lexington,  they  might  have  been  less  scru 
pulous.  But  their  determination  to  make  the  British 
take  the  initiative  in  the  fighting  showed  how  coolly 
they  were  carrying  themselves  in  the  midst  of  all  these 
exciting  events.  How  steadily  they  marched  down  to 
the  bridge,  receiving  first  a  few  scattering  shots  of  the 
British  soldiery,  and  then  a  fierce  volley  that  killed 
two  of  their  men  and  wounded  two  others  ;  how  bravely 
they  took  up  the  gage  of  battle  then,  and  drove  the  red 
coats  from  the  bridge  and  from  the  town;  howpluckily 
they  dogged  them  all  the  way  to  Charlestown  Neck, 
falling  on  their  flanks  as  they  hastily  retreated,  and 
making  the  road  by  which  they  marched  a  continual 
ambuscade  ; — all  this  has  been  told  oftener  than  any 
other  tale  of  our  history  ;  and  it  shall  continue  to  kin 
dle  the  patriotism  of  countless  generations  of  brave 
boys  yet  unborn ;  till,  by  and  by,  it  will  pass  that  un 
discovered  bourne  which  divides  history  from  mythol 
ogy,  and  philosophers  will  forge  elaborate  treatises 
in  languages  yet  unwritten,  to  prove  that  there  never 
was  any  such  war  as  the  Revolutionary  war,  nor  any 
such  town  as  Concord,  but  that  this  story  is  only  a 
type  or  illustration  of  the  great  struggle  between 
Liberty  and  Authority  which  has  been  going  on  for  so 
many  ages.  Let  us  all  be  thankful  that  we  live  in  the 
day  when  the  story  is  not  a  myth,  but  one  of  the  solid- 


WHO    HELPED    TO    FINISH    IT.  IQ 

est  facts  of  history ;  and  when  we  may  read  in  this 
quiet  field  by  the  river  side,  on  the  marble  inlet  of  the 
granite  shaft  that  commemorates  the  day  and  the  deed, 
these  substantial  statements  : 

"  HERE,  on  the  iQth  of  April,  1775,  was  made  the  first  forcible 
resistance  to  British  aggression.  On  the  opposite  banks  stood 
the  American  militia.  Here  stood  the  invading  army,  and  on 
this  spot  the  first  of  the  enemy  fell  in  the  war  of  the  Kevolution, 
which  gave  Independence  to  these  United  States.  In  gratitude 
to  God,  and  in  the  love  of  Freedom  this  monument  was  erected, 
A.  D.  1836." 

Eighty-six  years  from  this  very  day,  in  the  city  of 
Baltimore,  on  the  i9th  of  April,  1861,  the  first  soldier 
fell  in  the  later  and  greater  conflict  which  gave  to  the 
country  the  Liberty  which  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  only  promised,  and  consummated  the  work 
here  begun.  That  first  soldier  was — it  is  almost  a 
matter  of  course — a  Massachusetts  man ;  and  his  home 
was  in  this  gallant  old  County  of  Middlesex  in  which 
we  are  standing  now.  If  we  walk  back  to  the  public 
square  in  the  middle  of  the  town,  we  shall  find  another 
granite  shaft  bearing  witness  in  such  words  as  these  to 
the  fact  that  Old  Concord  was  ready  to  do  her  part  in 
the  last  war  as  nobly  as  in  the  first : 

"  The  town  of  Concord  builds  this  monument  in  honor  of  the 
brave  men  whose  names  it  bears,  and  records  with  grateful  pride 
that  they  found  here  a  birthplace,  home  or  grave.  They  died 
for  their  country  in  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,  1861  to  1^65." 

And  now  that  we  are  reading  monumental  inscrip 
tions  we  may  be  minded  to  visit  the  old  burial-places 


2O      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

in  this  village,  where  many  quaint  epitaphs  are  found 
but  none  quainter  than  the  following,  many  times  pub 
lished  already,  and  so  full  of  antithesis  that  Macaulay 
himself,  if  he  ever  read  it,  must  have  laid  down  his  pen 
in  despair  of  ever  being  able  to  match  it : 

"  God  wills  us  free ; — man  wills  us  slaves.  I  will  as  God  wills ; 
God's  will  be  done.  Here  lies  the  body  of  JOHN  JACK,  a  native 
of  Africa,  who  died,  March,  1 773,  aged  about  sixty  years.  Though 
born  in  a  land  of  slavery,  he  was  born  free.  Though  he  lived  in  a 
land  of  liberty,  he  lived  a  slave  ;  till  by  his  honest,  though  stolen 
labors  he  acquired  the  source  of  slavery,  which  gave  him  his 
freedom ;  though  not  long  before  Death,  the  grand  tyrant,  gave 
him  his  final  emancipation,  and  put  him  on  a  footing  with  kings. 
Though  a  slave  to  vice,  he  practised  those  virtues  without  which 
kings  are  but  slaves." 

Journeying  westward  again,  through  a  region  not  re 
markably  picturesque,  we  halt  for  the  first  time  at  South 
Acton,  where  the  Marlboro  branch  of  the  Fitchburg 
road  diverges  southward.  While  the  train  stops  you 
get  a  pretty  little  view  on  the  left,  a  pond  in  the  fore 
ground,  and  hills  in  the  distance.  From  this  town  of 
Acton  marched  before  day  on  the  morning  of  the  i9th 
of  April,  1775,  the  two  men  made  immortal  at  Concord 
t>y  the  first  volley  of  the  English  soldiery, —  Captain 
Isaac  Davis,  and  Abner  Hosmer. 

West  Acton  is  a  neat  hamlet,  mainly  on  the  south  of 
the  track. 

Littleton  is  too  small  to  be  seen  from  the  railroad, 
but  not  too  small  to  be  the  scene  of  a  large  story  about 
a  certain  lake,  ominously  called  Nagog,  where  a  strange 
rumbling  noise  is  sometimes  heard. 


LOOK    OUT    FOR    SHAKERS.  21 

Groton  Junction,  a  large  and  flourishing  village  a  lit 
tle  further  on,  is  the  hub  of  which  railroads  running  in 
six  different  directions  are  the  spokes.  The  Fitchburg 
Railroad  and  the  Worcester  and  Nashua  Railroad  pass 
through  the  town ;  the  Stony  Brook  Railroad  runs 
north-eastward  to  Lowell,  and  the  Peterboro  and  Shir 
ley  Branch  north-westward  to  Mason  Village,  in  New 
Hampshire.  The  Indian  name  of  the  town  was  Petap- 
away,  and  its  present  name  was  probably  given  to  it 
by  one  of  the  original  grantees  to  whom  the  territory 
was  conveyed  by  the  General  Court  in  1655, — Mr. 
Dean  Winthrop,  son  of  Governor  Winthrop.  Groton 
was  the  home  of  the  Winthrop  family  in  England. 

Shirley  is  a  thrifty  and  presentable  manufactwring 
town,  of  a  few  hundred  inhabitants  on  the  bank  of  a 
stream  that  empties  into  the  Nashua  River.  About — 
this — time — look  out — for — Shakers  ; — to  borrow  the 
method  of  the  almanac.  In  Harvard,  a  few  miles 
south,  and  in  the  town  of  Shirley,  they  have  flourish 
ing  communities,  and  their  broad  brims  and  sober  faces 
are  commonly  visible,  at  any  of  the  stations  in  this 
neighborhood.  In  leaving  Shirley  we  pass  out  of  old 
Middlesex  County,  into  Worcester  County. 

Lunenberg  is  the  next  station.  Two  or  three  miles 
beyond  it,  an  extensive  and  beautiful  view  is  opened 
to  the  southward.  Leominster  Center  with  its  three 
church  spires  stands  in  the  middle  of  a  charming 
landscape,  two  or  three  miles  away,  and  the  hills  in 
the  horizon  gave  to  the  picture  a  majestic  outline. 
This  is  one  of  the  most  distant,  and  on  the  whole  the 


FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

most  satisfactory  outlook  we  have  had  since  leaving 
Boston.  When  the  train  stops  at  North  Leominster, 
Wachusett  Mountain  is  in  full  view,  between  two  nearer 
hills. 

Passing  North  Leominster,  a  young  and  ambitious 
village,  called  into  existence  by  the  railroad  we  are 
soon  in  the  suburbs  of 

FITCHBURG. 

This  is  the  largest  town  we  have  seen  since  leaving 
Cambridge.  It  was  incorporated  in  1764,  the  region 
where  it  stands  being  known  before  that  time  by  the 
name  of  Turkey  Hills,  from  the  large  number  of  wild 
turkeys  found  there.  At  the  time  of  the 'opening  of 
the  Fitchburg  Railroad,  in  1845,  ^  was  a  smart  little 
manufacturing  village  of  something  over  three  thou 
sand  inhabitants ;  and  four  hundred  thousand  dollars 
would  buy  all  the  goods  and  wares  it  produced  in  a 
year ;  now  its  population  is  not  less  than  eleven  thou 
sand  ;  its  valuation  is  between  six  and  seven  millions 
of  dollars,  and  more  goods  are  manufactured  every  year 
than  were  manufactured  in  twenty  years  before  the 
opening  of  the  railroad. 

This  rapid  growth  of  population  and  business  has 
been  largely  the  result  of  the  increased  railroad  facili 
ties.  But  for  the  railroad  connecting  it  with  Boston, 
Fitchburg  would  probably  be  a  smaller  town  now  than 
it  was  twenty-five  years  ago.  When  that  railroad  was 
projected,  it  was  strongly  opposed  on  the  ground  that 
there  was  not  and  would  never  be  business  enough  to 


NO    NONSENSE    ABOUT    IT.  23 

pay  interest  on  the  cost  of  construction.  One  of  the 
legislators  declared  that  "  a  six-horse  coach  and  a  few 
baggage  wagons  would  draw  all  the  freight  from  Fitch- 
burg  to  Boston."  Several  six-horse  coaches  and  quite 
a  train  of  baggage  wagons  would  be  required  to  do  the 
large  business  of  this  road  to-day. 

Fitchburg  is  not  a  stylish  town.  There  is  evidently 
very  little  aristocracy  here.  It  is  apparent  that  the 
people  have  not  yet  reached  the  point  of  giving  much 
attention  to  matters  of  taste  and  elegance.  Fitchburg 
means  business.  It  impresses  you  as  being  a  place 
of  intense  energy  and  vigor.  It  has  some  handsome 
churches, — notably  the  one  recently  built  by  the  Epis 
copalians  ;  it  has  several  excellent  school-houses, — in 
the  year  1867  it  expended  seventy-five  thousand  dollars 
for  new  ones;  it  has  a  jail  and  house  of  correction 
that  would  prove,  one  would  think,  almost  too  attrac 
tive  ;  it  has  one  or  two  good  hotels ;  it  has  many 
excellent  houses ;  all  the  solid  elements  of  the  best 
civilization  are  here ;  but  the  people  have,  as  yet,  had 
but  little  time  to  give  to  architecture  and  landscape 
gardening.  .^Esthetical  culture  will  soon  follow,  how 
ever  ;  and  the  town  will  at  length  be  made  as  pictur 
esque  as  now  it  is  plain  and  practical.  These  hill 
sides  may,  under  skillful  treatment,  become  a  very 
Arcadia  for  loveliness. 

The  town  is  situated  in  a  deep  ravine,  through 
which  a  branch  of  the  Nashua  river  flows  with  rapid 
descent,  affording,  within  the  limits  of  the  town,  a  dis 
tance  of  five  miles,  no  less  than  twenty-eight  excellent 


24      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

water-privileges.  This  power  is  all  utilized.  Here  is 
the  Putnam  Machine  Company,  a  mammoth  establish 
ment,  making  the  Burleigh  Rock  Drill,  which  was 
invented  in  this  town,  and  all  sorts  of  iron  work.  This 
is  only  one  of  several  machine-shops.  Here  are 
manufactories  for  building  Mowing  and  Reaping  Ma 
chines,  and  for  making  scythes  and  knives  used  in 
various  agricultural  implements.  More  than  a  thou 
sand  men  find  employment  in  these  various  foundries 
and  machine-shops.  Chair-making  furnishes  employ 
ment  to  about  five  hundred  persons.  Chairs  are  made, 
put  together  and  painted,  then  knocked  to  pieces  and 
boxed  for  shipping.  The  American  Ratan  Company 
gives  employment  to  seventy-five  persons.  Ten  paper- 
mills  employ  two  hundred  hands,  and  annually  make 
three  thousand  five  hundred  tons  of  paper,  worth  at 
present  prices  one  million  of  dollars.  Three  woolen- 
mills,  three  cotton-mills,  and  one  factory  making 
worsted  yarn  require  for  their  operation  nearly  foul- 
hundred  persons.  Besides  these,  and  many  other 
things  which  cannot  be  mentioned,  Fitchburg  makes 
boots  and  shoes,  palm-leaf  hats  and  bonnets,  reeds 
and  harnesses  for  looms ;  wool  cards  ;  brass  fixtures 
of  various  sorts ;  doors  and  sash ;  piano-cases, — and 
money.  Nearly  fifty  different  kinds  of  manufacturing 
are  constantly  in  progress  in  this  busy  town.  People 
who  are  interested  in  the  industrial  developments  of 
the  country  could  spend  a  day  or  two  here  with  great 
profit  to  themselves.  Neither  is  the  region  wanting  .in 
attractions  for  those  who  love  the  picturesque  in  nature. 


THE    VIEW    FROM    WACHUSETT.  25 

Rollstone  mountain,  whose  granite  quarries  supply  the 
town  with  excellent  building  material,  rises  abruptly  on 
the  western  side  of  the  river  to  a  height  of  three  hun 
dred  feet.  The  view  from  its  summit  is  worth  climb 
ing  for.  On  the  one  side  lie  the  village  and  the  hills 
beyond ;  on  the  'other  you  look  across  a  beautiful  coun 
try  to  Wachusett,  ten  miles  distant, — the  highest  land 
in  Eastern  Massachusetts.  Perhaps  after  you  have 
viewed  it  from  afar,  you  will  conclude  •  to  go  over  and 
possess  yourself  of  its  glories.  That  you  can  easily 
do.  The  Vermont  and  Massachusetts  Railroad  will 
carry  you  to  a  station  named  Wachusett,  where  the 
stages  will  take  you  up  and  land  you  at  the  mountain. 
There  you  will  find  good  hotels ;  the  mountain  top  is 
easily  accessible ;  and  a  day  or  two  in  that  high  and 
pure  air  will  do  you  good.  The  top  of  this  mountain 
is  a  little  more  than  three  thousand  feet  above  tide 
water ;  and  rises,  without  any  very  steep  ascent,  nearly 
two  thousand  feet  above  the  surrounding  country,  of 
which  it  gives  you  a  view  from  thirty  to  fifty  miles  in 
extent  on  every  side. 

Only  three  miles  from  Fitchburg  is  Pearl  Hill — to 
the  top  of  which  good  roads  lead  you,  and  from  which 
you  may  count  twenty  villages.  Perhaps  too  you  may 
find  the  place  where  this  thing  happened,  of  which  we 
read  in  Torrey's  History  of  Fitchburg : 

"  On  one  occasion,  Isaac  Gibson  in  his  rambles  on 
Pearl  Hill  found  a  bear's  cub,  which  he  immediately 
seized  as  his  legitimate  prize.  The  mother  of  the  cub 
came  to  the  rescue  of  her  offspring.  Gibson  retreated, 


26      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

and  the  bear  attacked  him  in  the  rear,  to  the  manifest 
detriment  of  his  pantaloons.  This  finally  compelled 
him  to  face  his  unwelcome  antagonist  and  they  closed 
in  a  more  than  fraternal  embrace.  Gibson,  being  the 
more  skillful  wrestler  of  the  two,  threw  Bruin  and  they 
came  to  the  ground  together.  Without  relinquishing 
the  hug  both  man  and  beast  now  rolled  over  each 
other  to  a  considerable  distance  down  the  hill,  receiv 
ing  sundry  bruised  by  the  way.  When  they  reached 
the  bottom  both  were  willing  to  relinquish  the  contest 
without  any  further  experience  of  each  others  prowess. 
It  was  a  draw  game ;  the  bear  losing  her  cub,  and 
Gibson  his  pantaloons." 

Whether  this  was  the  contest  upon  which  the  wife 
looked,  bestowing  her  applause  so  impartially  upon 
both  combatants,  the  historian  does  not  tell  us ;  but  it 
is  safe  to  assert  that  there  are  few  eastern  towns  of  the 
size  of  Fitchburg  that  can  tell  a  bigger  bear  story. 

Falloolah  is  the  musical  name  of  a  pretty  glen  in  the 
neighborhood,  of  which  Mr.  J.  C.  Moulton,  the  excel 
lent  photographer  of  Fitchburg  will  tell  you,  and  a 
picture  of  which  he  will  show  you.  Mr.  Moulton  is, 
by  the  way,  an  authority  concerning  all  the  points  of 
interest  about  Fitchburg  and  visitors  would  do  well  to 
consult  him.  If  they  cannot  visit  all  the  places  he 
can  tell  them  of,  they  can  possess  themselves  of  some 
of  his  admirable  stereographs.  Not  only  Fitchburg 
and  its  surroundings  but  other  neighborhoods  are 
represented  in  his  collection.  A  series  of  photographs 
of  the  Au  Sable  Chasm,  in  northern  New  York,  gives 


WESTWARD   AGAIN.  27 

a  most  satisfactory  representation  of  one  of  the  re 
markable  natural  curiosities  in  America.  Mention  is 
made  of  this  collection  of  stereographs  in  this  place 
because  they  have  been  made  with  such  excellent  taste 
and  skill,  and  are  so  well  worth  the  notice  of  persons 
interested  in  this  branch  of  art. 

The  Vermont  and  Massachusetts  Railroad  carries 
us  westward  from  Fitchburg,  through  a  rough  country, 
over  which  we  occasionally  catch  a  glimpse  to  which 
distance  lends  enchantment.  Westminster  Depot  is 
three  miles  from  Westminster  Village.  The  road  from 
the  railroad  to  the  town  is  a  pleasant  one  even  in  the 
winter,  which  is  saying  much  for  a  country  road  ;  and 
must  be  well  worth  traveling  in  the  summer.  The  old 
village  to  which  it  leads  is  a  good  specimen  of  a  New 
England  hill  town.  The  only  thing  that  astonishes  the 
visitor  is  the  architecture  of  some  of  the  dwellings  in 
the  principal  street,  which  have  an  air  of  tremendous 
boldness  and  self-assertion. 

Ashburnham  is  remembered  by  all  passengers  as  the 
place  where  their  seats  and  their  heads  are  turned. 
Here,  for  some  unaccountable  reason,  there  is  a  sharp 
angle  in  the  railroad  track.  The  train  stops  on  a 
switch;  the  locomotive  is  turned  round  and  attached 
to  the  rear  end  of  the  train,  and  you  are  soon  going 
back,  apparently  in  the  direction  from  which  you  have 
come.  A  better  route  has  just  been  surveyed,  south 
of  this  line,  from  Gardner  through  Westminster  to 
Fitchburg,  by  which  the  angle  will  be  avoided,  the  dis 
tance  shortened  and  the  grade  improved.  The  road 


28      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

will  soon  be  built  in  accordance  with  this  survey. 
From  some  of  the  elevated  grades  in  this  town  you  get 
fine  views  to  the  southward. 

Gardner  is  a  flourishing  village  four  miles  west  of 
Ashburnham,  to  which  the  railroad  has  given  a  won 
derful  stimulus,  though  it  has  long  been  a  town  of  con 
siderable  importance,  owing  to  its  extensive  manufac 
ture  of  chairs.  Though  a  small  village,  it  has  the  lead 
in  this  branch  of  industry  of  all  the  other  towns  in  the 
Commonwealth.  Not  much  is  seen  of  the  village  from 
the  railroad.  It  is  hidden  among  the  hills  on  the 
north  of  the  track.  This  fact  led  a  reckless  passenger 
to  remark  that  Gardner  was  a  very  chary  town.  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  he  was  immediately  ejected  from  the  car. 

Just  beyond  Gardner  the  railroad  crosses  Miller's 
River,  a  considerable  stream  emptying  into  the  Con 
necticut  above  Turner's  Falls.  The  railroad  follows 
the  course  of  this  river  for  the  next  forty  miles,  and 
from  this  point  onward  the  scenery  owes  much  of  its 
attractiveness  to  the  beauty  of  the  river.  Winding 
among  the  hills  we  meet  a  succession  of  picturesque 
surprises,  which  cannot  be  described  or  pointed  out, 
but  which  the  wide  awake  traveler  will  not  be  likely  to 
miss. 

Templeton  lies  to  the  southward  of  the  track.  This 
town,  like  Westminster,  was  an  original  grant  to  cer 
tain  persons  who  did  service  in  King  Philip's  war  or 
to  their  heirs,  and  was  known  by  the  name  of  Narra- 
gansett  No.  6  till  1762,  when  it  was  incorporated  with 
the  present  name. 


POP-CORN    WITH    ATTIC    SALT.  29 

By  this  time  the  Pop-corn  Man  will  have  made  his 
appearance.  Johnson  is  his  name,  but  he  is  a  better 
looking  and  a  much  better  natured  man  than  the  other 
Johnson.  If  you  greet  him  with  a  gentle  inclina 
tion  of  the  head,  he  will  stop  by  your  side,  take  a 
paper  bag  of  crisp  and  flaky  corn  from  his  capa 
cious  basket,  shake  a  little  salt  into  it  from  a  small 
glass  caster,  deftly  twirl  it  round  once  or  twice  in 
his  fingers  and  pass  it  to  you,  discoursing  all  the 
time,  in  the  most  fluent  manner,  of  "  fate,  free-will, 
foreknowledge  absolute,"  or  any  other  subject  you 
choose  to  open,  and  charging  you  for  paper  bag, 
politeness,  pop-corn  and  philosophy  only  five  cents. 
Cultivate  Johnson;  he  will  tell  you  much  more  than 
this  book  knows  about  the  country  through  which 
you  are  passing,  and  make  you  feel  that  you  are  do 
ing  him  a  favor  in  giving  him  an  opportunity  to  answer 
questions. 

Baldwinsvitte,  a  village  in  the  town  of  Templeton, 
detains  us  but  a  moment,  and  soon  after  we  leave  it 
we  have  a  fine  view  of  Mount  Monadnock  in  New 
Hampshire,  ten  miles  to  the  north. 

South  Royalston  is  the  village  on  the  railroad — old 
Royalston  being  about  five  miles  northward.  Several 
pretty  cascades  in  this  vicinity  are-  turned  to  good 
account  for  manufacturing  purposes. 

Athol  is  a  lively  and  enterprising  town,  of  three 
thousand  inhabitants,  on  the  western  border  of 
Worcester  County, — another  remarkable  instance  of 
the  value  of  railroads  in  developing  the  resources 


3O      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

of  the  country.  Since  the  Vermont  and  Massachu 
setts  Railroad  was  opened,  this  town  has  made 
remarkable  progress ;  its  excellent  water-power  is  put 
to  excellent  use,  and  the  wealth  of  the  town  has  been 
trebled. 

Orange  is  another  village  nearly  as  large,  rivalling 
Athol  in  its  activity  and  vigor.  The  manufacturing 
interest  is  large  already,  and  is  constantly  increasing. 
Miller's  River,  which  does  the  work  of  these  smart 
villages  gives  to  the  traveler  many  beautiful  glimpses 
of  quiet  pastoral  beauty,  as  he  hurries  along  its  banks. 

Wendell  and  Erving  are  feeling  the  impulse  of  the 
railroad  also,  and  in  due  time  they  will  no  doubt  grow 
into  prominence  and  prosperity. 

Grout's  Corner  is  the  terminus  of  the  New  London 
Northern  Railroad,  running  southward  through  Arn- 
herst,  Belchertown,  Palmer  and  other  important  towns 
to  New  London  in  Connecticut.  Here  the  Vermont 
and  Massachusetts  Railroad  branches, — one  track  go 
ing  north  to  Brattleboro,  the  other,  which  we  shall  fol 
low,  passing  westward  to  Greenfield.  Grout's  Corner 
is  making  a  commendable  effort  to  live  and  thrive; 
and  though  it  has  tried  once  before  and  failed,  all 
good  people  will  wish  it  abundant  success  in  its  new 
endeavor.  In  this  region  there  is  abundance  of 
charming  scenery.  A  beautiful  mountain  view  is  seen 
to  the  northward,  before  reaching  Grout's  Corner, — 
blue  hills  in  the  distance,  with  a  rolling  country  be 
tween.  Just  east  of  the  depot,  a  deep  and  cool  ravine 
gives  a  bed  to  Miller's  River,  from  which  we  part  at 


ACROSS   THE    CONNECTICUT.  31 

this-  point  with  regret,  having  found  it  for  many  miles 
a  charming  traveling  companion.  Two  or  three  miles 
beyond  Grout's  Corner,  a  pretty  little  pond  with 
wooded  shores  smiles  in  at  the  car  windows  on  the 
northern  side. 

Montague  is  a  fine  old  village,  half  a  mile  south  of 
the  railroad,  and  not  visible  from  the  cars.  Soon  after 
leaving  the  station  which  bears  this  name,  the  train 
emerges  from  a  wooded  bank  upon  a  high,  uncovered 
bridge,  with  the  broad,  clear  current  of  the  Connecti 
cut  flowing  beneath,  and  the  glorious  valley  opening 
like  the  Land  of  Promise  to  the  northward  "and  the 
southward.  After  so  many  miles  of  hills  and  cliffs  and 
gorges,  that  tell  of  upheavals  in  the  earth  and  forces 
primeval  that  have  tossed  and  rent  and  piled  the  solid 
elements,  how  restful  is  the  peace  of  this  green  valley 
with  its  circlet  of  blue  hills !  Away  yonder  on  the 
right  are  the  heights  of  Northfield  and  Bernardston ; 
southward  the  symmetrical  cones  of  the  Sunderland 
hills ;  westward  the  rugged  ridge  of  Rocky  Mountain, 
over  which  the  Shelburne  Mountains  lift  their  heads, 
and  through  which  the  Deerfield  flows  to  its  peaceful 
wedlock  with  the  Connecticut ;  and  all  the  wide  inter 
val  is  goodly  and  fruitful  meadow  land,  green  with 
grass  or  golden  with  grain.  Quickly  the  train  draws 
its  smoky  line  across  this  beautiful  picture;  crosses 
the  Deerfield ;  follows  its  path  through  the  gorge  it 
has  cleft  through  Rocky  Mountain;  pauses  for  a  mo 
ment  that  we  may  gaze  upon  a  new  vision  of  splen 
dor  in  the  smiling  meadows  of  old  Deerfield,  then 


32      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

hurries  on  to  the  Greenfield  station,  where  you  and  I, 
good  reader,  are  to  rest  awhile. 

"  Free  carriage  to  the  Mansion  House ! "  That  means 
a  good  bed,  a  bountiful  and  sumptuous  table,  and  a 
genial  host.  "  Free  carriage  to  the  American  House ! " 
That  tells  of  one  who  will  give  you  abundant  welcome 
and  good  cheer.  Pay  your  money  and  take  your 
choice  !  Rest  and  be  thankful ! 


CHAPTER    II. 

GREENFIELD    AND    THEREABOUTS. 
EARLY    HISTORY. 

THIS  good  town  of  Greenfield,  which,  for  the  next 
few  days,  will  be  our  resting-place  and  base  of 
operations,  lies  on  the  northern  verge  of  the  famous 
Deerfield  meadows,  in  the  angle  between  the  Deerfield 
and  Connecticut  Rivers,  whose  waters  unite  two  miles 
south-eastward  from  the  Public  Square.  The  Con 
necticut  is  hidden  from  the  village  by  a  greenstone 
ridge  extending  from  Fall  River  on  the  north  to  South 
Deerfield,  where  it  terminates  in  the  well-known  Sugar 
Loaf  Mountain. 

The.  town  was  originally  a  part  of  Deerfield,  and  was 
then  called  Green  River.  In  1753  it  received  its  char 
ter  of  incorporation.  A  dispute  arose  at  this  time  con 
cerning  the  boundary  line  between  the  towns,  and  con 
cerning  the  use  and  improvement  of  certain  sequestered 
lands,  which  has  occasioned  no  little  strife  and  litiga 
tion.  In  the  courts  and  the  Legislature  the  battle  has 
been  fought  with  great  pertinacity ;  many  hard  words 

2* 


34      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

have  been  spoken  and  much  printer's  ink  has  been 
shed  about  it,  and  once,  at  least,  it  led  to  a  slight  un 
pleasantness  with  pitchforks  between  the  farmers  of 
the  two  different  towns.  The  fact  that  these  seques 
tered  lands  in  dispute  were  for  the  use  and  behoof  of 
the  gospel  ministry  makes  the  quarrel  slightly  ridic 
ulous  if  not  disgraceful.  No  longer  ago  than  1850,  the 
boundary  question  was  before  the  Massachusetts  Leg 
islature,  but  if  it  has  been  mooted  since  that  day  this 
little  book  does  not  know  of  it. 

The  historic  period  of  Greenfield  was  the  early  part 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  while  it  was  yet  a  part  of 
Deerfield ;  and  when  we  come  to  trace  the  story  of 
Indian  wars  and  incursions  our  path  will  frequently 
cross  this  territory.  In  the  War  of  the  Revolution, 
however,  this  town  bore  an  honorable  part. 

"  When  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Lexington  reached 
Greenfield,  the  people  assembled  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  same  day,  and  formed  a  company  of  volunteers  on 
the  spot  choosing  Benjamin  Hastings  captain.  Hast 
ings,  however  became  himself  second  in  comrriand, 
yielding  the  first  rank  to  Captain  Timothy  Childs,  who, 
he  modestly  said,  was  a  man  of  greater  experience 
than  himself.  Aaron  Davis  was  then  chosen  ensign, 
and  the  next  morning  the  company  marched  for  Cam 
bridge.  During  the  whole  War  of  the  Revolution 
the  people  of  this  town  took  an  active  interest  in  its 
progress  and  success,  as  is  abundantly  shown  by  the 
numerous  records  of  votes  choosing  committees  of 
correspondence  and  safety,  approving  the  confederation 


PATRIOTISM   AND    PIETY.  35 

of  the  United  States,  raising  money  for  ammunition 
and  food,  and  hiring  men  for  the  army,  as  well  as  by 
their  prompt  personal  obedience  to  the  calls  for  re- 
enforcements."* 

WAR    RECORD. 

The  spirit  of  '76  again  took  possession  of  the  people 
of  Greenfield  in  1861  when  President  Lincoln's  first 
call  for  troops  was  issued.  Once  more  the  bells  were 
rung,  and  the  people  assembled,  eager  to  buckle  on 
the  armor  that  their  fathers  had  so  nobly  worn.  From 
one  manufacturing  establishment  an  entire  company 
volunteered,  and  the  quota  was  speedily  in  marching 
order.  In  the  last  war  as  well  as  in  the  first  Green 
field  has  a  full  and  honorable  record. 

CHURCHES   AND    PUBLIC    BUILDINGS. 

Going  forth  from  our  comfortable  quarters  at  the 
Mansion  House  or  the  American  Hotel  we  find  our 
selves  upon  the  Main  street  of  the  village.  Nearly 
opposite  the  Mansion  House  is  the  Public  Square,  an 
oblong  space  of  half  an  acre  surrounded  by  a  low 
wooden  railing.  The  town  has  recently  voted  to  build 
an  iron  fence  and  to  erect  a  Soldiers'  Monument.  The 
most  conspicuous  object  on  the  north  side  of  the 
square  is  the  Orthodox  Congregational  Church,  now 
building  of  red  sandstone.  The  symmetry  and  the 
solidity  of  the  structure  are  the  admiration  of  visitors 
and  the  pride  of  the  inhabitants. 

The  first  minister  of  Greenfield  was  Rev.  Edward 

*  Holland's  Western  Massachusetts :  Vol.  II.,  p.  371. 


36      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

Billings,  settled  September  24,  1753.  The  first  meet 
ing-house  was  built  in  1760,  about  a  mile  north  of  the 
village  on  the  Bernardston  road.  Soon  after  the 
meeting-house  was  built  Rev.  Roger  Newton  was 
ordained  as  pastor  of  the  church  and  continued  in 
this  office  until  1816,  when  he  died  at  the  age  of  79, 
having  had  but  this  one  pastorate  of  fifty-six  years. 
During  the  last  three  years  of  his  ministry  he  had  for 
his  colleague  Rev.  Gamaliel  S.  Olds,  afterwards  for  a 
long  time  professor  of  mathematics  in  Vermont  Uni 
versity  and  in  Amherst  College.  In  1817  the  church 
was  divided  ;  and  the  Second  Society  erected  its  new 
edifice  in  1819  on  the  ground  where  the  present 
church  is  building.  The  old  meeting-house  stood 
until  1831  when  it  was  taken  down  and  a  new  one  was 
built  by  the  First  Society  at  Nash's  Mills  three-quar 
ters  of  a  mile  west  of  the  old  site; 

The  Rev.  Dan  Huntington,  the  father  of  the  Rev. 
Frederick  Dan  Huntington,  D.  D.,  recently  of  Boston 
and  now  bishop  of  Central  New  York  preached  for  the 
Second  Society  for  some  time  after  its  organization, 
though  he  was  never  settled  as  its  pastor.  The  name 
of  Rev.  P.  C.  Head  ley,  well-known  in  literature,  is 
found  among  the  recent  ministers  of  this  church. 
Rev.  Samuel  H.  Lee  is  the  present  pastor. 

The  Unitarian  Church  whose  edifice  is  just  above 
on  the  opposite  side  of  Main  street  was  organized  in 
1825.  Its  first  minister  was  Rev.  Winthrop  Bailey,  and 
its  present  pastor  is  Rev.  John  F.  Moors. 

The  Episcopal  Church  was  organized  in  1812.     Its 


"WHERE  is  THE  CITY?"  37 

excellent  house  of  worship  stands  on  Federal  street, 
Rev.  P.  V.  Finch  is  the  rector. 

The  Methodist  Church  was  organized  in  1835.  You 
notice  its  edifice  on  Church  street,  north  of  Main. 

The  Baptist  Church,  organized  in  1852  and  minis 
tered  to  at  present  by  Rev.  D.  M.  Grant,  has  its  local 
habitation  on  Main  street  west  of  the  Square. 

The  Roman  Catholic  Church,  whose  pastor  is  Rev. 
Mr.  Robinson,  is  about  to  erect  a  new  church  on  Main 
street. 

People  stopping  in  Greenfield  over  Sunday  may 
therefore  even  if  they  are  not,  like  Mrs.  Partington,  so 
Catholic  in  their  sentiments  as  to  be  satisfied  with 
"  any  paradox  church  where  the  gospeF  is  dispensed 
with/'  find  a  place  of  worship  where  their  preferences 
will  be  gratified. 

Next  door  to  the  Orthodox  Church,  on  the  Public 
Square,  stands  the  Court  House, — Greenfield  being 
the  shire  town  of  Franklin  County.  The  contiguity 
of  these  two  edifices  is  suggestive,  and  -a  short  inter 
mission  will  be  given,  at  this  point,  to  all  those  persons 
who  want  to  go  out  and  make  puns  about  them. 

On  the  eastern  side  of  the  Square  is  the  Post  Office, 
and  just  below  the  Square,  on  the  south  side  of  Main 
street,  is  the  Town  Hall,  a  fine  brick  structure.  The 
Jail,  standing  on  a  side  street  south-east  from  the 
Square,  is  one  of  the  best  buildings  in  town.  On 
Chapman  street  is  the  High  School,  and  on  Federal 
street  the  Greenfield  Institute  for  Young  Ladies,  under 
the  care  of  the  Misses  Stone, — an  institution  which  for 


38      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

many  years  has  borne  an  excellent  name.  The  educa 
tion  of  the  young  probably  costs  more  than  it  did  in 
1753,  when  this  town  voted  to  pay  teachers  two  shil 
lings  a  day  for  the  summer  and  one  shilling  and  four- 
pence  for  the  fall. 

Some  members  of  the  illustrious  Gradgrind  family 
are  always  found  in  every  company  of  tourists.  They 
do  not  approve  of  mountains  and  waterfalls,  but  they 
would  enjoy  a  visit  to  an  establishment  which  has  not 
only  a  national,  but  an  European  reputation, — 

THE   RUSSELL    MANUFACTURING   COMPANY. 

Up  to  the  year  1841,  the  table  cutlery  used  in  the 
United  States  was  almost  all  of  English  manufacture. 
No  competition  with  the  great  Sheffield  manufactories 
had  been  attempted,  and  it  was  supposed  that  such  an 
attempt  would  not  be  successful.  But  in  that  year, 
Mr.  John  Russell,  who  for  seven  years  had  been  manu 
facturing  edge  tools  on  the  Green  River,  in  this  village, 
and  who  had  during  this  time  made  some  table  cutlery 
with  considerable  success,  resolved  to  turn  his  attention 
to  the  exclusive  manufacture  of  the  latter  class  of  goods. 
From  that  beginning  has  grown  this  large  establish 
ment, — the  largest  of  its  class  in  the  world,  making 
cutlery  which  the  Sheffield  manufacturers  confess  to 
be  superior  to  theirs,  and  affording  it  at  prices  so 
reasonable  that'  it  controls  the  American  market.  This 
result  has  been  attained  by  the  superior  mechanical 
skill  and  inventive  genius  of  Mr.  Russell  and  those  who 
have  wrought  with  him.  Many  curious  machines,  by 


HOW  THEY  MAK^  KNIVES  AND  FORKS.   39 

which  the  labor  of  production  is  greatly  facilitated, 
were  invented  here,  and  are  not  found  in  operation 
elsewhere.  Almost  all  the  work  of  these  shops  is  done 
by  machinery;  and  low  as  are  the  wages  of  Sheffield 
mechanics,  the  Yankee  machines  will  work  cheaper 
and  better  than  they.  Moreover,  the  machines  are 
never  known  to  go  off  "  on  a  tear,"  and  though  some 
of  them  strike  pretty  frequently,  the  work  never  stops 
on  that  account. 

"Among  these  curious  machines  is  an  arrangement 
of  screw-frames  and  heated  dies  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  form  and  hardness  to  the  apple-wood  handles 
which  are  put  upon  some  styles  of  knives.  The  com 
paratively  soft  apple-wood,  by  being  thus  subjected  to 
an  immense  pressure,  is  made  to  take  the  place  of 
ebony,  rosewood,  cocoa  or  granadilla  wood  •  at  the 
same  time  the  brass  rivets  are  headed,  and  a  beautiful 
handle  is  the  result.  By  an  ingenious  arrangement 
of  circufer  saws  and  endless  chains,  a  machine  has 
been  contrived  for  the  purpose  of  sawing  out  bone  and 
ivory  handles  as  fast  as  a  man  can  clap  the  pieces  on 
the  machine.  Another  instrument  drills  the  holes  in 
the  handles ;  another  one  cuts  the  tines  of  the  forks ; 
'another  bends  the  tines  to  their  proper  shape ;  another 
straightens  and  levels  the  blade  of  the  knife  at  one 
stroke ;  still  another  cuts  the  blade  from  the  piece  of 
steel  which  has  been  formed  ready  for  use."  * 

Nearly  all  the  forging  is  done  by  steam.      Twelve 

*  New  York  Evening  Mail.    This  quotation,  and  many  of  the  facts  here 
presented,  were  taken  from  an  article  in  that  newspaper. 


4O  FROM    THE    HUB    T(J*THE    HUDSON. 

trip-hammers  make  titanic  music  all  day  long.  In  the 
grinding  and  polishing  shops,  whose  flooring  is  about 
half  an  acre  in  extent,  one  hundred  and  forty  grinders 
are  at  work  upon  seventy  grindstones ;  and  there  are 
one  hundred  men  employed  on  the  emery  wheels. 
These  wheels  are  made  of  wood,  covered  with  leather, 
dressed  with  wax,  and  rolled  in  emery  dust.  The 
emery  is  of  various  'grades  of  fineness ;  the  coarsest, 
which  is  used  for  grinding  the  wooden  handle,  being 
in  grains  as  large  as  coarse  meal  or  hominy,  the  finest, 
which  is  used  only  for  polishing,  being  fine  as  flour. 

One  building  is  devoted  to  the  tempering  of  the 
knives.  The  blade  is  first  heated  red  hot  and  dipped 
into  oil ;  this  makes  it  exceedingly  brittle.  It  is  then 
laid  upon  iron  plates  covered  with  sand  over  a  coal 
fire,  and  the  heat  changes  the  color  first  to  gray,  then 
to  straw  color,  then  to  pink,  then  to  blue.  The  work 
man  judges  of  the  temper  by  his  eye.  One  man  can 
temper  about  twenty-five  hundred  blades  in  a  "day. 

The  new  silver-plated  knife,  with  both  handle  and 
blade  of  steel,  is  made  at  these  works. 

The  Green  River  supplies  three  water-wheels  with 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  horse  power;  two  steam 
engines,  with  a  total  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  horse 
power,  do  the  rest  of  the  work.  Five  hundred  men 
and  twenty  women  earn  a  little  more  than  twenty 
thousand  dollars  a  month. 

England  and  America  supply  this  company  an 
nually  with  six  hundred  tons  of  steel ;  the  West  Indies 
contribute  three  hundred  thousand  pounds  of  cocoa 


WHERE    THEY    GET    THE    MATERIALS.  4! 

and  granadilla  wood ;  California  sends  sixty  thousand 
pounds  of  rose-wood ;  Madagascar  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  of  ebony;  Africa  forty  thousand  pounds  of 
elephants'  tusks ;  Smyrna  fifty  thousand  pounds  of 
emery;  Nova  Scotia  four  hundred  thousand  pounds 
of  grindstones ;  Connecticut  thirty  thousand  pounds  of 
brass  wire ;  Pennsylvania  two  thousand  tons  of  anthra 
cite  coal ;  Massachusetts  and  Vermont  twenty-five 
thousand  bushels  of  charcoal;  and  the. Yankee  bees, 
who  are  not  less  busy  than  other  bees,  have  a  yearly 
contract  for  supplying  twenty-five  hundred  pounds  of 
wax. 

With  this  material,  the  Green  River  Works  turn  out 
every  day  one  thousand  dozen  of  table  cutlery,  one 
hundred  dozen  ivory-handled  ware,  and  two  hundred 
and  fifty  dozen  of  miscellaneous  goods. 

Of  the  other  manufacturing  establishments  of  Green 
field  we  cannot  speak  at  length.  We  have  tarried 
long  enough  among  the  things  that  man  has  made. 
Let  us  go  and  look  at  the  house  of  a  better  Builder. 
Being  a  little  weary  with  car-riding,  we  propose  to  rest 
ourselves  with  a  walk,  this  fine  evening,  to  look  upon 
the  landscape  and  enjoy  the  sunset  from 

THE  POET'S  SEAT. 

Up  Main  street  under  a  canopy  of  elms  and  maples, 
to  the  end  of  the  street  where  a  guide-board  points  us 
into  a  road  leading  to  Montague,  bearing  to  the  right, 
and  passing  round  the  elegant  residence  of  Judge 
Grmnell.  The  highway  winding  up  the  hill  gives  us 


42      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

some  glimpses  of  scenery,  but  prudently  keeps  from 
us  the  glories  to  be  revealed  when  we  reach  the  top. 
There,  at  the  summit,  we  turn  to  the  left,  into  a  bushy 
pasture,  and.  suddenly  the  landscape  is  unveiled.  We 
are  standing  now  on  Rocky  Mountain,  looking  east 
ward  ;  the  Deerfield  Valley,  out  of  which  we  have  as 
cended,  is  behind  us,  and  is  hidden  from  view  by  the 
hill,  over  the  crest  of  which  we  have  passed ;  the 
Connecticut  River  and  its  valley  are  before  us.  A 
little  way  to  the  south  the  Deerfield  River  breaks 
through  the  ridge  on  which  we  are  standing  and  flows 
down  through  the  meadow  to  mingle  its  waters  with 
those  of  the  Connecticut.  To  the  northward  we  catch 
a  glimpse  of  Turner's  Falls,  and  the  racing  rapids 
below 'them;  across  the  valley  to  the  north-eastward 
in  the  distant  horizon  rises  Mount  Grace  in  the  town 
of  Warwick; — southward  is  Mount  Toby  in  Sunder- 
land ;  other  lesser  eminences  complete  the  horizon, 
and  encircle  a  scene  most  fair.  Directly  across  the 
river  is  Montague  City,  reached  by  the  bridge  which 
spans  the  Connecticut  at  this  point  and  greatly  adds 
to  the  beauty  of  the  picture.  On  the  little  island  at 
our  feet  a  musket  was  dug  up  not  long  ago,  which 
may  very  likely  have  belonged  to  one  of  those  Indians 
who  went  down  the  rapids  in  the  Falls  fight,  about 
which  we  shall  know  more  by  and  by.  In  the  meadow 
just  below  us  is  a  sulphur  spring  the  water  of  which 
tastes  bad  enough  to  be  very  medicinal.  Good  Mr. 
Philo  Temple,  who  owns  the  meadow  says  that  the 
spring  has  had  its  ups  and  downs  for  a  hundred  and 


THE  POET'S  VISION.  43 

fifty  years ;  sometimes  being  highly  extolled  for  its 
healing  virtues  and  sometimes  entirely  neglected.  Just 
now  it  is  out  of  fashion,  and  therefore  we  will  give  it 
none  of  our  patronage. 

When  you  have  rested  and  feasted  your  eyes  upon^ 
this  landscape  long  enough,  we  will  turn  into  this  well- 
trodden  path  running  northward  along  the  Ridge,  keep 
ing  the  same  prospect  in  view  for  a  third  of  a  mile, 
when  the  path  passes  over  the  crest  and  opens  to 
us  another  scene  scarcely  less  beautiful,  on  the  west 
ern  side  of  the  Ridge.  On  the  brink  of  this  steep, 
rocky  wall,  where  we  are  standing,  is  the  niche  in  the 
rock  long  known  as  the  Poet's  Seat.  It  is  not  gener 
ally  supposed,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Greenfield,  that 
all  the  people  who  have  sat  in  this  seat  are  poets,  or 
that  sitting  here  is  sure  to  make  a  poet  out  of  a  com 
mon  man ;  however,  if  any  one  chooses  to  try  it,  there 
is  no  impediment.  No  one  but  a  poet  ought  to  at 
tempt  to  describe  the  vision  which  is  here  brought 
before  us.  At  our  feet  Greenfield  and  the  valley  of 
the  Green  River,  flanked  by  the  hills  of  Leyden  and 
Shelburne ;  to  the  south  Old  Deerfield,  hidden  among 
its  elms ;  over  against  it,  in  the  boundary  between 
Deerfield  and  Conway,  Arthur's  Seat,  a  noble  moun 
tain  ;  in  the  middle  of  the  picture  the  enchanting  mead 
ows  of  the  Deerfield,  with  their  many-figured,  many- 
tinted  carpeting.  Upon  this  sloping  bank  let  us  sit 
down,  while  the  shadows  creep  stealthily,  as.  once  the 
red  man  crept,  eastward  across  the' valley  at  our  feet; 
while  the  clouds  above  the  Shelburne  hills  change  to 


44      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

gold  and  amber  and  crimson  and  purple ;  while  the 
robin  in  the  branches  overhead  sings  his  vesper  song, 
and  the  evening  star  shines  out  in  the  west ;  then  si 
lently,  as  the  twilight  fades,  we  will  rise  and  seek  the 
^ith  that  will  lead  us  quickly  down  from  this  mount  of 
beautiful  vision. 

"  Black  shadows  fall 
From  the  lindens  tall  4> 

That  lift  aloft  their  massive  wall 
Against  the  southern  sky; 

"  And  from  tKe  realms 
Of  the  shadowy  elms, 
A  tide-like  darkness  overwhelms 
The  fields  that  round  us  lie. 

"  But  the  night  is  fair, 
And  everywhere 
A  warm  soft  vapor  fills  the  air, 

And  distant  sounds  seem  near; 

"  And  above,  in  the  light 
Of  the  star-lit  night, 
Swift  birds  of  passage  wing  their  flight 
Through  the  dewy  atmosphere." 

We  went,  as  was  meet,  to  the  Poet's  Seat  last  even 
tide  ;  this  morning  a  place  with  a  name  something  less 
romantic  will  be  the  destination  of  our  walk : 

THE  BEAR'S  DEN. 

We  follow  Main  street  again  to  the  end,  turn  again 
into  the  Montague  road,  and  a  few  rods  beyond  the 
residence  of  Judge  Grinnell  we  take  a  well-trodden 
path,  which  leads  through  a  beautiful  pasture  on  the 


THE    SAME    OLD    CLAM-SHELL.  45 

right  of  the  highway.  Following  this  path  for  about 
a  mile,  with  a  bright  panorama  nearly  all  the  while  in 
view,  we  come  to  the  southern  end  of  Rocky  Moun 
tain,  where  the  Deerfield  River  pierces,  the  barrier  and 
descends  into  the  Connecticut  Valley.  Tradition  says 
that  this  Deerfield  Valley  was  once  a  lake  brimful  of 
water  to  the  top  of  this  hill,  and  that  a  squaw,  with  a 
clam-shell,  scraped  away  the  earth  at  this  point  for  the 
water  to  flow  over  into  the  Connecticut  Valley,  thus 
opening  a  channel  which  the  water  has  worn  till  it  has 
cut  the  mountain  in  two  and  emptied  the  lake.  Un 
doubtedly  the  valley  was  once  a  lake,  and  the  water 
has  worn  this  channel ;  but  the  squaw  and  her  clam 
shell  are  mildly  apocryphal.  This  is  not  the  only 
place  where  they  have  done  duty.  The  same  story  is 
told,  unless  we  forget,  of  the  parting  between  Tom  and 
Holyoke  through  which  the  Connecticut  River  runs; 
and  upon  the  banks  of  every  old  water  basin  in  the 
land  that  has  been  drained,  tradition  has  perched  the 
same  old  squaw  with  her  clam-shell.  Standing  at  this 
point,  both  valleys  are  seen,  and  the  view  is  beautiful 
in  both  directions.  The  wagon-bridge,  which  crosses 
the  Deerfield  River  just  above  us,  was  built  as  a  toll- 
bridge  in  1798,  and  its  charter  ran  seventy  years;  in 
November,  1868,  it  became  free,  and  passed  into  the 
possession  of  the  town  of  Deerfield. 

The  railroad  bridge,  which  stands  above  it,  by  which 
the  Connecticut  River  Railroad  crosses  the  Deerfield 
River,  is  seven  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length,  and 
ninety  feet  above  the  water.  On  the  morning  of  July 


46      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

17,  1864,  during  the  draft  riots,  the  bridge  which  stood 
where  this  one  stands  was  burnt, — with  what  purpose 
is  not  quite  clear.  It  was  supposed  at  the  time  that 
the  object  was  to  call  the  people"  and  the  fire  depart 
ment  away  from  Greenfield,  when  the  J;own  was  to  have 
been  set  on  fire.  If  this  was  the  intent  of  the  incendi 
ary,  he  failed  in  his  purpose,  for  the  citizens  stood  by 
their  own  stuff,  and  let  the  bridge  burn. 

The  Bear's  Den  is  a  rough  and  steep  ravine  with  a 
sort  of  cavern  at  the  southern  extremity  of  this  hill, 
up  which  ardent  and  adventurous  youth  sometimes 
clamber.  Sitting  in  the  Poet's  Seat  will  not  make  a 
man  a  poet,  but  climbing  up  the  Bear's  Den  is  very 
likely  to  make  a  man  as  hungry  as  a  bear.  If  any  one 
lacks  appetite,  therefore,  let  him  make  the  experiment ; 
while  those  of  us  who  do  not  need  this  kind  of  sharp 
ening  will  at  once  descend  to  dinner. 

Those  who  are  not  vigorous  enough  to  make  these 
longer  tramps  of  which  we  have  been  talking  will  find 
it  a  pleasant  walk  to  the  end  of  Congress  street,  lead 
ing  directly  south  from  the  head  of  Main  street.  The 
western  view  from  this  point  is  very  beautiful. 

The  drives  about  Greenfield  are  no  less  inviting 
than  the  walks,  and  first  among  them  for  interest  is 
the  drive  to 

OLD    DEERFIELD. 

In  order  that  we  may  fully  appreciate  the  scenes 
upon  which  we  shall  look,  we  will  study  for  a  little 
while,  before  we  start,  the  early  history  of  this  famous 
old  town.  Originally  Deerfield  embraced  within  its 


THE    SPIES    AND    THE    PROMISED    LAND.       4/ 

limits  the  present  towns  of  Conway,  Shelburne,  Green 
field  and  Gill ;  and  its  settlement  was  on  this  wise. 
Eliot,  the  celebrated  Indian  apostle,  after  some  years 
of  labor  among  the  red  men,  reached  a  conclusion  not 
unlike  that  which  has  lately  found  expression  in  the 
President's  Message, — that  civilization  and  citizenship 
were  indispensable  to  the  Christianization  of  the  In 
dians.  He  therefore  in  1651  asked  the  General  Court 
for  two  thousand  acres  of  land  at  Natick,  then  a  part 
of  Dedham,  upon  which  he  might  found  an  Indian 
community.  This  reasonable  request  was  granted. 
As  a  recompense  for  the  lands  thus  taken  away  the 
General  Court  in  1663  voted  that  the  town  of  Dedham 
might  select  for  itself  eight  thousand  acres  of  unoc 
cupied  land  anywhere  within  the  province.  In  the 
same  year  messengers  were  sent  out  to  locate  the 
land.  They  traveled  as  far  west  as  Lancaster,  to  the 
Chestnut  Hills ;  and  very  likely  climbed  to  the  top  of 
Wachusett,  from  which  the  country  was  visible  for 
many  miles  on  either  side.  They  returned  and  re 
ported  that  the  land  was  rough  and  uneven,  offering 
few  inducements  to  pioneers.  The  next  spring  an  old 
hunter  told  the  people  of  Dedham  that  there  was  land 
worth  possessing  on  the  Connecticut  River,  north  of 
Hadley.  Immediately  they  appointed  one  of  their 
number  to  go  with  him  and  spy  out  the  land.  The 
report  they  brought  back  was  so  favorable  that  four 
men  were  commissioned  to  proceed  to  the  spot  and 
locate  the  land.  They  journeyed  westward  through 
the  unbroken  forest,  till  they  reached  the  Connecticut 


48      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

Valley  which  they  crossed  not  far  below  the  mouth  of 
the  Deerfield,  and  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  rocky 
ridge  separating  the  two  valleys,  when  a  scene  was 
presented  to  their  eyes  fairer  than  any  they  had  be 
held  on  this  Continent.  The  wide  valley  then  as  now 
was  green  with  verdure  ;  no  forests  had  grown  since 
the  ancient  lake  was  drained ;  the  course  of  the  Deer- 
field  was  marked  by  thickets  that  grew  upon  its  banks  ; 
thousands  of  acres  of  smooth  and  fruitful  land  rudely 
planted  by  the  red  man  were  waiting  for  a  better  cul 
tivation.  No  wonder  that  these  good  Puritans  gave 
vent  to  their  joy  in  fervent  and  Scriptural  thanksgiving. 
They  at  once  proceeded  to  locate  their  eight  thousand 
acres  with  excellent  judgment,  selecting  what  proved 
to  be  the  best  land  in  the  region.  Shortly  thereafter, 
Major  Pynchon  of  Springfield  purchased  this  land  of 
the  Indians  for  the  people  of  Dedham,  paying  there 
for  ^"94,  IGS.  The  deeds  by  which  the  property  was 
originally  conveyed  are  now  in  the  archives  of  the 
town  of  Deerfield.  The  date  of  the  first  settlement  is 
not  quite  certain.  It  has  commonly  been  fixed  at 
1671  or  1672  ;  but  some  of  the  later  students  of  the 
old  history  are  inclined  to  place  it  as  far  back  as 
1669  ; — just  two  hundred  years  ago.  At  this  time  the 
only  settlements  of  white  men  in  this  region  were 
those  of  Hadley,  Hatfield,  Northampton  and  Spring 
field.  Until  the  year  1675  these  settlers  dwelt  in 
peace  and  security  ;  then  began  the  long  train  of  con 
flicts  and  calamities  which  has  no  parallel  in  the 
pioneer  history  of  any  community  in  our  country. 


KING   PHILIP  S   WAR.  49 

Massasoit,  the  Indian  sachem  who  welcomed  the 
Pilgrims  to  Plymouth,  and  proved  himself,  during  his 
whole  life,  a  trusty  friend  of  the  white  man,  was  suc 
ceeded  by  his  son  Philip,  a  chief  of  a  very  different 
temper.  Perceiving  that  the  English  were  gaining 
rapidly  in  numbers  and  influence,  and  that  the  empire 
of  the  red  man  was  in  danger,  he  formed  the  various 
Indian  tribes  of  New  England  into  an  alliance  for  the 
purpose  of  exterminating  the  whites.  Hostilities  began 
in  the  year  1675  \  and  the  first  serious  contest  in  West 
ern  Massachusetts  was  in  Brookfield,  in  July  of  that 
year,  where  an  ambuscade,  a  siege  and  a  conflagration 
signalized  the  ferocity  of  the  savages.  The  Pocumtuck 
Indians,  whose  hunting  grounds  were  in  this  valley, 
at  first  professed  hostility  to  Philip ;  but  shortly  after 
the  siege  of  Brookfield,  the  wily  sachem  found  his  way 
into  this  region,  and  won  their  allegiance.  At  this  time 
Hadley  was  the  head-quarters  of  the  English  forces, 
and  about  one  hundred  and  eighty  men  were  then 
in  garrison,  under  Captains  Beers  and  Lathrop.  The 
treachery  of  the  Indians  in  this  vicinity  being  sus 
pected,  they  were  ordered  to  deliver  up  their  arms. 
This  they  promised  to  do;  but  on  the  night  of  the 
25th  of  August,  before  their  arms  had  been  given  up, 
they  secretly  left  their  quarters  and  fled  up  the  river. 
Beers  and  Lathrop  pursued  them  the  next  day,  over 
took  and  attacked  them  in  South  Deerfield,  near  the 
base  of  Sugar  Loaf  Mountain,  and  killed  twenty-six  of 
them,  the  remainder  making  good  their  escape  to  the 
camp  of  Philip,  which  was  somewhere  in  the  vicinity. 
3 


50      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

Ten  of  the  English  soldiers  fell  in  this  battle.  One 
week  afterward  the  Indians  attacked  the  settlers  in 
Deerfield,  killed  one  of  them,  and  burnt  nearly  all  the 
houses  in  the  little  settlement.  This  was  the  ist  of 
September,  1675.  But  the  settlement  was  not  aban 
doned.  A  garrison  was  established  here,  and  Captain 
Mosely  was  made  Commandant.  In  the  fields  around 
Deerfield  a  large  amount  of  wheat  had  been  harvested 
and  stacked.  The  winter  was  approaching,  and  this 
wheat  must  be  secured  before  the  Indians  destroyed 
it.  Accordingly,  Captain  Lathrop,  with  eighty  soldiers 
and  a  large  number  of  teams  and  drivers,  were  sent  to 
thrash  the  grain  and  bring  it  to  Hadley.  They  pro 
ceeded  to  Deerfield,  thrashed  and  loaded  the  grain 
without  molestation,  and  the  i8th  of  September  began 
their  return  march  to  Hadley.  The  rest. of  the  story 
shall  be  told  by  General  Hoyt,  whose  valuable  His 
tory  of  the  Indian  Wars,  now  out  of  print,  is  the  stand 
ard  authority  upon  the  early  history  of  this  region  : — 
"  For  the  distance  of  about  three  miles  after  leaving 
Deerfield  Meadow,  Lathrop's  march  lay  through  a  very 
level  country,  closely  wooded,  where  he  was  every  mo 
ment  exposed  to  an  attack  on  either  flank.  At  the 
termination  of  this  distance,  near  the  south  point"  of 
Sugar  Loaf  Hill,  the  road  approximated  Connecticut 
River,  and  the  left  was  in  some  measure  protected.  At 
the  village  now  called  Muddy  Brook,  in  the  southerly 
part  of  Deerfield,  the  road  crossed  a  small  stream, 
bordered  by  a  narrow  morass,  from  which  the  village 
has  its  name;  though,  more  appropriately,  it  should 


THE    MASSACRE    AT    BLOODY    BROOK.  5! 

be  denominated  Bloody  Brook,  by  which  it  was  for 
some  time  known.*  Before  arriving  at  the  point  of 
intersection  with  the  brook,  the  road  for  about  half  a 
mile  ran  parallel  to  the  morass,  then  crossing  it  con 
tinued  to  the  south  point  of  Sugar  Loaf  Hill,  traversing 
what  is  now  the  home-lots  on  the  east  side  of  the  vil 
lage.  As  the  morass  was  thickly  covered  with  brush, 
this  place  of  crossing  afforded  a  favorable  point  for 
surprise. 

"  On  discovering  Lathrop's  march,  a  body  of  up 
wards  of  seven  hundred  Indians  f  planted  themselves 
in  ambuscade  at  this  point,  and  lay  eagerly  waiting  to 
pounce  upon  him  while  passing  the  morass.  Without 
scouring  the  woods  in  his  front  and  flanks,  or  suspect 
ing  the  snare  laid  for  him,  Lathrop  arrived  at  the  fatal 
spot ;  crossed  the  morass  with  the  principal  part  of  his 
force,  and  probably  halted  to  allow  time  for  his  .teams 
to  drag  through  their  loads.  The  critical  moment  had 
arrived.  The  Indians  instantly  poured  a  heavy  and 
destructive  fire  upon  the  column  and  rushed  furiously 
to  close  attack.  Confusion  and  dismay  succeeded. 
The  troops  broke  and  scattered,  fiercely  pursued  by 
the  Indians  whose  great  superiority  [in  numbers] 
enabled  them  to  attack  at  all  points.  Hopeless  was 
the  situation  of  the  scattered  troops,  and  they  resolved 
to  sell  their  lives  in  a  vigorous  struggle.  Covering 
themselves  with  trees  the  bloody  conflict  now  became 


*  This  suggestion  of  General  Hoyt  was  adopted,  and  the   stream  is  now 
known  as  Bloody  Brook. 

t  Probably  commanded  by  Philip  himself. 


52      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

a  severe  trial  of  skill  in  sharp  shooting,  in  which  life 
was  the  stake.  Difficult  would  it  be  to  describe  the 
havoc,  barbarity  and  misery  that  ensued  ;  '  Fury  raged, 
and  shuddering  pity  quit  the  sanguine  field/  while  des 
peration  stood  pitted,  '  at  fearful  odds '  to  unrelenting 
ferocity.  The  dead,  the  dying,  the  wounded  strewed 
the  ground  in  all  directions,  and  Lathrop's  devoted 
force  was  soon  reduced  to  a  small  number,  and  resist 
ance  became  faint.  At  length  the  unequal  struggle 
terminated  in  the  annihilation  of  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  English;  only  seven  or -eight  escaped  from  the 
bloody  scene  to  relate  the  dismal  tale,  and  the  wounded 
were  indiscriminately  butchered.  Captain  Lathrop  fell 
in  the  early  part  of  the  action ;  the  whole  loss,  includ 
ing  teamsters,  amounted  to  ninety.  The  company  was 
a  choice  corps  of  young  men  from  the  county  of  Essex 
in  Massachusetts  ;  many  from  the  most  respectable 
families.  Hubbard  says  '  they  were  the  flower  of  the 
county ;  none  of  whom  were  ashamed  to  speak  with 
the  enemy  in  the  gate.'  Captain  Lathrop  was  from 
Salem,  Massachusetts. 

"  Captain  Mosely,  at  Deerfield,  between  four  and 
five  miles  distant,  hearing  the  musketry,  made  a  rapid 
march  for  the  relief  of  Lathrop,  and  arriving  at  the 
close  of  the  struggle  found  the  Indians  stripping  and 
mangling  the  dead.  Promptly  rushing  on,  in  compact 
order,  he  broke  through  the  enemy,  and  charging  back 
and  forth,  cut  down  all  within  the  range  of  his  shot ; 
and  at  length  drove  the  remainder  through  the  adjacent 
swamp,  and  another  farther  west,  and  after  several 


DELENDA    EST    DEERFIELD.  53 

hours  of  gallant  fighting  compelled  them  to  seek 
safety  in  the  more  distant  forests. 

"Just  at  the  close  of  the  action,  Major  Treat  (then 
commanding  the  garrison  at  Hadley,)  who,  on  the 
morning  of  the  day,  had  marched  toward  Northfield, 
arrived  on  the  ground  with  one  hundred  men,  and 
shared  in  the  final  pursuit  of  the  enemy.  The  gallant 
Mosely  lost  but  two  men  in  the  various  attacks,  and 
seven  or  eight  only  were  wounded.  Probably  the 
Indians  had  expended  most  of  their  ammunition  in 
the  action  with  Lathrop,  and  occasionally  fought  with 
their  bows  and  spears." 

That  night  Mosely  and  Treat,  with  their  men,  slept 
in  the  garrison  at  Deerfield,  and  the  next  morning 
they  returned  to  bury  their  dead.  The  number  of 
Indians  killed  in  the  two  engagements  was  ninety-six. 

Shortly  after  this,  it  became  evident  that  the  post  of 
Deerfield  could  only  be  held  with  the  greatest  difficulty. 
The  garrison  was  therefore  withdrawn  to  Hadley,  and 
what  was  left  of  the  little  town  was  entirely  destroyed 
by  the  savages. 

It  is  not  quite  certain  at  what  date  the  settlers  re 
turned  to  rebuild  the  ruined  village.  Philip's  War 
continued  till  the  spring  of  1678,  when  a  peace  was 
concluded;  but  the  power  of  the  red  men  was  broken 
in  the  Connecticut  Valley  at  an  earlier  date.  In  the 
autumn  of  1677,  we  find  the  people  erecting  dwellings 
and  preparing  for  the  coming  winter.  On  the  igth  of 
September,  in  that  year,  a  party  of  about  fifty  Indians, 
who  had  descended  the  Connecticut  River  from  Cana- 


54      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

da,  and  had  made  a  successful  assault  upon  the  garri 
son  of  Hatfield,  halted  on  their  return  in  the  woods 
east  of  Deerfield,  entered  the  town  about  night-fall, 
killed  one  man  and  captured  three  others,  whom  they 
took  with  them  to  Canada.  This  calamity  alarmed 
the  good  people  of  Deerfield,  and  they  again  deserted 
their  plantation.  But  after  the  fall  of  Philip  and  the 
conclusion  of  peace,  the  Indians  abandoned  the  terri 
tory,  and  the  whites  were  left  for  a  time  in  undisturbed 
possession. 

Ten  years  of  peace  were  now  granted  to  the  dis 
tracted  settlers  of  the  Connecticut  Valley.  These  fruit 
ful  meadows  of  the  Deerfield  again  gave  seed  to  the 
sower  and  bread  to  the  eater ;  the  village  was  rebuilt, 
and  the  people  began  to  hope  that  their  calamities 
were  past.  But  in  the  year  1689,  the  accession  of 
William  and  Mary  to  the  throne  of  England  was  fol 
lowed  by  that  war  between  England  and  France 
known  in  these  colonies  as  King  William's  War. 
The  gage  of  battle  was  taken  up  by  the  French  and 
English  colonists  of  North  America ;  and  the  settlers 
of  this  region  were  again  for  five  years  harassed  by 
constant  apprehensions  of  attack  from  the  French  and 
their  allies,  the  Indians.  Several  slight  skirmishes 
with  the  Indians  took  place,  but  no  very  severe  ca 
lamity  befell  the  little  town  during  this  war,  which 
closed  with  the  peace  of  Ryswick,  in  1691.  In  1689 
a  fort  was  built,  doubtless  as  a  defence  against  ex 
pected  incursions  of  the  savages.  This  was  a  stock 
aded  enclosure,  more  than  two  hundred  rods  in  circum- 


MEETING-HOUSE   AND    SCHOOL-HOUSE.          55 

ference,  and  containing  about  fifteen  acres.  Some 
where  within  this  enclosure,  the  boundaries  of  which 
we  can  fix  with  some  degree  of  certainty  as  we  ride 
through  the  village,  stood  the  first  meeting-house,  built 
probably  of  logs.  October  30,  1694,  we  find  the  town 


"  That  a  Meeting-House  shall  be  built  ye  bignesse  of  Hatfield 
Meeting-House,  only  ye  height  to  be  left  to  ye  judgment  and 
determination  of  ye  Committy. 

"  That  there  shall  be  a  rate  made  of  one  hundred  and  forty 
pounds,  payable  the  present  year  in  Pork  and  Indian  Corn,  in 
equall  proportions,  for  ye  carrying  on  ye  building." 

Not  only  religion,  but  education  was  the  earliest  care 
of  these  wise  pioneers.  The  next  year  this  vote  is  re 
corded  : 

"  That  a  school-house  be  built  upon  the  town  charge  in  ye 
year  1695,  ye  dimensions  of  said  house  to  be  21  foot  long  and  18 
foot  wide  and  7  between  joynts." 

The  school-house  and  the  meeting-house  both  stood 
within  the  limits  of  the  fort. 

The  democracy  of  these  days  was  by  no  means  the 
most  radical  variety,  as  the  following  votes  in  town- 
meeting  bear  witness : — 

"May  11,  1701,  Voted  that  Dea.  Hunt,  Dea.  Sheldon,  Mr. 
John  Catlen,  Edward  Allyn  and  Thomas  French,  shall  be  ye 
seaters  for  ye  seating  of  ye  new  Meeting-House.  That  ye  rules 
for  ye  seating  of  persons  shall  be  Age,  State  and  Dignity. 

"Oct.  2,  1701,  Voted  that  ye  fore  seats  in  ye  front  Gallery 
shall  'be  equal  in  Dignity  with  ye  2nd  seat  in  ye  body  of  ye 
Meeting-House. 


$6      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

"That  ye  fore  seats  in  ye  side  Gallery  be  equal  with  ye  4th 
seats  in  ye  Body  of  ye  Meeting-House. 

"  That  ye  2nd  seat  in  ye  front  Gallery  and  ye  hinder  seat  in 
ye  front  Gallery  shall  be  equal  in  Dignity  with  ye  5th  seat  in 
ye  Body. 

"  That  ye  second  seat  in  ye  side  Gallery  shall  be  esteemed 
equal  in  Dignity  with  ye  6th  in  ye  Body  of  the  Meeting-House." 

The  minister  at  this  time  was  Rev.  John  Williams, 
a  graduate  of  Harvard  College,  who  was  settled  in 
1686,  being  then  in  his  twenty-second  year.  The  fol 
lowing  is  the  agreement  between  him  and  his  people, 
copied  from  the  early  records  of  the  town : — 

"  The  inhabitants  of  Deerfield,  to  encourage  Mr.  John  Williams 
to  settle  amongst  them  to  dispense  the  blessed  word  of  truth 
unto  them,  have  made  propositions  unto  him  as  followeth : — 

"  That  they  will  give  him  sixteen  cow  commons  of  meadow 
land,  with  a  house  lot  that  lyeth  on  the  meeting-house  hill ;  that 
they  will  build  him  a  house  forty-two  feet  long,  twenty  feet  wide, 
with  a  lento  on  the  back  side  of  the  house ;  to  finish  said  house, 
to  fence  his  home-lot,  and  within  two  year  after  this  agree 
ment  to  build  him  a  barn  and  break  up  his  plowing  land.  For 
yearly  salary  to  give  him  sixty  pounds  a  year  for  the  present, 
and  four  or  five  years  after  this  agreement  to  add  to  his  salary 
and  make  it  eighty  pounds." 

There  was  a  further  agreement  between  Mr.  Wil 
liams  and  the  town  relative  to  his  salary  in  1696,  the 
terms  of  which  we  find  recorded  by  Mr.  Williams  him 
self:— 

11  The  town  to  pay  their  salary  to  me  in  wheat,  pease,  Indian 
corn,  and  pork  at  the  price  stated,  viz:    wheat  at  3*-  3^  per 
bushel,  Indian  corn  at  2s.  per  bushel,  fatted  pork  at  2d-  1-2  per  Ib. ; 
these  being  the  terms  of  the  bargain  made  with  me  at  the  "fir^ 
(Signed)  "JOHN  WILLIAMS. 


THE    STORM   IS    GATHERING.  57 

These  old  records  illustrate  for  us  the  life  of  the 
early  settlers  during  the  years  of  comparative  peace 
and  plenty  which  closed  the  seventeenth  century ;  and 
they  show  that  the  village,  though  annoyed  by  the  war, 
was  hardly  interrupted  in  its  growth.  On  the  death  of 
King  William  and  the  accession  of  Queen  Anne,  in 
1702,  another  war  broke  out  between  England  and 
France,  which  brought  to  these  good  people  of  Deer- 
field  hardships  greater  than  any  they  had  yet  suffered. 
At  this  time  Deerfield  had  grown  to  be  quite  a  village ; 
there  must  have  been  a  population  of  between  two  and 
three  hundred  souls,  and  several  comfortable  framed 
houses  had  been  built,  both  within  and  without  the 
fort.  Deerfield  was  the  frontier  town  on  the  north, 
the  few  inhabitants  of  Northfield  having  been  driven 
from  their  homes  during  King  William's  War.  On  the 
breaking  out  of  Queen  Anne's  War,  in  1702,  the  pur 
pose  of  the  French  to  sack  this  town  was  discovered  \ 
the  fort  was  repaired  by  the  inhabitants,  and  twenty 
soldiers  were  sent  by  the  Governor  as  a  guard. 

And  now  the  last  and  worst  of  their  calamities  was 
ready  to  be  visited  upon  them.  On  the  night  of  the 
twenty-ninth  of  February  1704,  Major  Hertel  de  Rou- 
ville,  with  sixteen  hundred  French  and  one  hundred 
and  forty  Indians,  arrived  at  what  is  now  known  as 
Pettis'  Plain, —  a  short  distance  south-west  from  the 
village  of  Greenfield,  and  two  miles  from  the  fort  at 
Deerfield,  having  made  a  toilsome  march  of  between 
two  and  three  hundred  miles,  through  a  deep  snow. 
Here  he  halted,  ordered  his  men  to  lay  aside  their 
3* 


58      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

packs  and  snow-shoes,  and  prepare  for  an  assault 
upon  the  fort.  Crossing  the  Deerfield  River  a  little 
before  daybreak,  he  took  up  a  rapid  march  on  the 
stiff  crust  of  the  snow  across  the  meadow.  Fearing 
that  the  noise  of  the  marching  might  give  the  alarm, 
he  ordered  frequent  halts,  in  which  the  whole  force  lay 
still  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  rising,  rushed  on  at 
the  double  quick.  These  alternations  of  noise  and 
silence,  would  he  supposed,  be  mistaken  by  the  senti 
nels  for  gusts  of  wind  followed  by  moments  of  calm. 
It  was  a  clever  ruse,  but  hardly  necessary,  for  the  sen 
tinels  were  asleep.  On  the  north-west  corner  of  the 
fort  the  snow  had  been  drifted  nearly  to  the  top  of  the 
stockade,  and  over  the  bridge  thus  provided  for  them 
the  whole  force  gained  an  easy  entrance,  and  found  the 
whole  garrison  asleep.  Quietly  they  now  divided  them 
selves  into  parties,  and  began  the  assault.  The  doors 
were  broken  open,  the  people  were  dragged  from  their 
beds,  and  all  who  offered  resistance  were  slaughtered. 
The  house  of  Mr.  Williams  was  one  of  the  first  as 
saulted.  Awakened  from  a  sound  sleep  he  sprang 
from  his  bed  and  ran  toward  the  door,  but  the  Indians 
had  already  entered.  Quickly  returning  to  his  couch 
he  seized  a  pistol  there  secreted,  and  aimed  it  at  the 
foremost  Indian,  but  it  missed  fire.  Instantly  he  was 
seized  and  pinioned,  and  made  to  await  the  brutal 
pleasure  of  his  captors.  Two  of  his  young  children 
and  his  negro  woman  were  taken  to  the  door  and 
murdered  before  his  eyes.  His  wife  and  five  children 
were  made  captives  with  him. 


THE    OLD    INDIAN    HOUSE.  59 

The  door  of  Captain  John  Sheldon's  house  was  so 
securely  fastened  that  they  could  not  force  it  open. 
With  their  hatchets  they  succeeded  in  cutting  a  small 
hole  through  the  double  .thickness  of  plank,  and  thrust 
ing  a  musket  through  they  fired  and  killed  Mrs.  Shel 
don  who  was  just  rising  from  her  bed.  The  house  was 
captured  and  used  as  a  place  of  confinement  for  the 
prisoners.  Another  house  about  fifty  yards  south-west 
of  Sheldon's  was  repeatedly  attacked  but  was  defended 
by  seven  men  who  poured  a  destructive  fire  from  win 
dows  and  loop-holes.  The  bullets  that  kept  the  foe  at 
bay  were  cast  by  brave  women  while  the  fight  was 
going  on  ;  a  fact  which  Lucy  Stone  may  use  with  ex 
cellent  effect  when  she  makes  her  next  speech  in  the 
Connecticut  Valley. 

Another  house  outside  the  fort,  surrounded  by  a 
circle  of  palisades,  was  successfully  defended,  with 
some  loss  to  the  assailants. 

Before  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  work  of 
destruction  and  pillage  was  complete,  and  Rouville 
collected  his  prisoners  and  his  booty,  and  set  out  on 
his  return.  Possibly  his  steps  were  hastened  by  the 
arrival  of  a  party  from  Hatfield,  whither  the  news  of 
the  assault  had  been  carried  by  a  fugitive.  This 
small  and  late  re-enforcement,  being  joined  by  the 
people  who  had  defended  the  two  houses,  and  a  few 
others  who  had  escaped  into  the  woods,  pursued  the 
enemy  into  the  meadow,  and  gallantly  attacked  them ; 
but  being  outnumbered  and  almost  surrounded,  they 
were  compelled  to  retreat,  and  the  invaders  marched 


6O      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

away  with  their  captives  and  their  plunder.  One  hun 
dred  and  twelve  persons  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages 
were  made  prisoners ;  the  slain,  including  those  who 
fell  in  the  fight  in  the  meadows,  numbered  forty-seven, 
and  the  loss  of  the  enemy  was  about  the  same  num 
ber.  Fourteen  of  the  captives, — probably  infants  and 
infirm  persons, — were  killed  by  the  Indians  during 
the  first  day's  march,  which  was  not  more  than  four 
miles.  Two  of  them  escaped,  and  Mr.  Williams  was 
instructed  to  inform  the  prisoners  that  if  any  more 
escapes  were  attempted,  death  by  fire  would  be  the 
portion  of  the  rest.  A  full  and  graphic  account  of 
this  sad  journey,  an'd  the  exile  in  Canada  which  suc 
ceeded  it,  may  be  found  in  a  little  book  written  by 
Mr.  Williams,  and  entitled,  "  The  Redeemed  Captive 
Returning  to  Zion."  The  first  day,  he  tells  us,  he  was 
separated  from  his  wife,  who  was  in  feeble  health; 
the  second  day  he  was  permitted  to  speak  with  her,  and 
for  a  time  to  assist  her  on  her  journey;  but  at  length 
her  strength  failed,  and  he  was  forced  to  leave  her 
behind.  The  Indian  to  whose  tender  mercies  she  was 
left,  finding  her  unable  to  travel  further,  despatched 
her  with  his  tomahawk.  Not  long  after,  a  party  from 
Deerfield,  following  the  trail  of  the  Indians,  found  her 
dead  body,  and  brought  it  back  to  Deerfield  and  buried 
it.  By  slow  and  weary  marches  through  the  deep  snow, 
the  prisoners  finally  arrived  in  Canada.  It  appears 
that  they  were  regarded  as  the  property  of  their  Indian 
captors ;  and  though  some  of  them  were  purchased  by 
the  French  inhabitants,  the  greater  part  were  retained 


THE    CAPTIVES    REDEEMED.  6 1 

by  the  Indians  at  their  lodges  in  different  parts  of  the 
country.  Mr.  Williams  was  set  at  liberty  by  Governor 
Vaudreuil,  and  by  great  exertions  succeeded  in  procur 
ing  the  release  of  all  his  children  but  one,  Eunice,  a 
girl  of  ten  years.  In  1706  a  flag-ship,  sent  from  Bos 
ton  to  Quebec,  returned  with  Mr.  Williams,  four  of  his 
children  and  fifty-two  other  redeemed  captives.  Eunice 
Williams  was  left  behind,  grew  up  among  the  Indians, 
forgot  her  language,  married  an  Indian  who  assumed 
her  name,  reared  up  a  large  family,  and  died  at  length 
a  Romanist  in  an  Indian  cabin.  Three  times  during 
her  life,  attended  by  her  tawny  spouse,  and  attired  in 
Indian  costume,  she  visited  her  friends  in  Massachu 
setts  ;  but  they  could  not  persuade  her  to  forsake  her 
home  or  to  forswear  her  faith.  Eleazer  Williams,  the 
pretended  Dauphin  of  France,  was  her  grandson. 

The  little  party  that  bravely  followed  and  assailed 
the  invaders,  found,  on  returning  to  the  smoking  ruins 
of  the  little  village,  that  not  much  of  it  was  left.  Hoyt 
tells  us  that,  "excepting  the  meeting-house  and  Shel 
don's,  which  was  the  last  fired,  and  saved  by  the  Eng 
lish  who  assembled  immediately  after  the  enemy  left 
the  place  all  [the  buildings]  within  the  fort  were  con 
sumed  by  fire.  That  which  was  so  bravely  defended 
by  the  seven  men  accidentally  took  fire  and  was  con 
sumed  while  they  were  engaged  in  the  meadow."  But 
this  statement  is  now  disputed.  It  is  supposed  that 
seven  or  eight  houses  remained  after  the  burning,  and 
some  of  them  are  yet  standing.  We  shall  see  them 
as  we  ride  through  the  village. 


62      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

The  house  of  Sheldon  stood  with  but  little  alteration 
until  1849,  when  it  was  removed  to  make  way  for  a  more 
modern  structure.  The  old  dooK,  which  the  Indians 
pierced  with  their  tomahawks  was  still  upon  its  hinges 
when  the  house  was  taken  down,  and  it  was  preserved 
as  a  relic  by  Mr.  Hoyt,  the  owner  of  the  house.  Some 
years  afterward  it  passed  into  other  hands,  and  at 
length  in  1863,  the  citizens  of  the  town  learned  with 
great  regret  that  it  had  been  purchased  and  carried 
away  to  Newton,  by  Dr.  D.  D.  Slade.  Negotiations 
were  immediately  opened  with  the  worthy  doctor,  who 
at  first  refused  to  part  with  it;  but  finally,  in  1867,  he 
wrote  to  the  committee  that  after  thinking  the  matter 
over  he  had  concluded  that  the  door  belonged  to  Deer- 
field  ;  and  upon  receipt  of  the  amount  which  it  had  cost 
him,  he  would  return  it  to  the  town.  Whereupon,  a  fair 
was  held,  the  money  was  raised,  and  the  people  cele 
brated  the  return  of  the  door  with  a  festival,  a  speech  by 
Rev.  J.  F.  Moors  of  Greenfield,  &nd  a  poem  by  Josiah 
D.  Canning,  Esq.,  of  Gill,  well  known  in  this  region 
as  the  ''Peasant  Bard."  Here  are  some  of  his  verses: 

"  Here  where  you  stood  in  those  dark  days  of  yore, 
And  did  brave  duty  as  a  Bolted  Door  ; 
Where  you  withstood  the  Indians'  fiendish  rage 
Who  on  yon  tablet,  scored  a  bloody  page ; 
Where  you  survived  the  havoc  and  the  flame, 
And  float  Time's  tide  to-day,  a  Door  of  Fame  ; 
Here  where  for  long  decades  of  years  gone  down 
You've  served  attractor  to  this  grand  old  Town, 
Made  for  yourself  and  physics  one  name  more, — 
For  thou  hast  been,  shalt  be,  Attraction's  Door ; 


A    HYMN    OF    ADORATION.  63 

Here  where  years  since,  a  wonder-loving  boy, 

I  first  beheld  thee  with  a  solemn  joy, 

Gazed  on  thy  silent  face  but  speaking  scars, 

And  dreamed  of  "  auld  lang  syne  "  and  Indian  wars ; 

Door  of  the  Past,  thou  wast  indeed  to  me 

And  Door  of  Deerfield  thou  shalt  ever  be  ! 

Here  grim  old  relic  !  thou  shalt  aye  repose, 

By  keepers  guarded,  unassailed  by  foes ; 

Stronger  in  age  than  most  doors  in  their  prime, 

The  Indian's  hatchet  and  the  scythe  of  Time 

Thou  hast  defied ;  and  though  no  more  for  harm, 

'Gainst  thee  the  painted  warrior  nerves  his  arm, 

Still  shalt  defy  the  blade  of  Time  so  keen, 

Till  he  his  scythe  shall  change  for  the  machine. 

"  Bless  thee,  old  relic  !  old  and  brave  and  scar'd  ! 
And  bless  Old  Deerfield  !  says  her  grandson  bard. 
Towns  may  traditions  have,  by  error  spun, 
She  has  the  Door  of  History, — here's  the  one  !  " 

The  old  door  is  now  enclosed  in  a  handsome  chestnut 
frame,  and  hung  in  the  hall  of  the  Poeumtuck  House, 
where  it  is  easily  accessible  to  visitors :  but  it  might 
find  a  better  resting-place.  Deerfield  ought  to  have  a 
Memorial  Hall,  into  which  its  relics  and  its  archives 
might  be  gathered.  A  large  and  valuable  collection 
would  soon  be  obtained;  no  town  in  the  country,  ex 
cept  Old  Plymouth,  has  greater  need  of  such  a  build 
ing.  Some  of  the  rich  men  of  the  cities,  whose  genea 
logical  tree  sprouted  in  these  historic  meadows,  ought 
to  set  this  enterprise  in  motion  without  delay. 

The  terrible  calamity  just  narrated  did  not  destroy 
the  courage  of  this  heroic  people.  Those  who  were 
left  determined  to  maintain  their  plantations.  When 


64      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

Mr.  Williams  returned  to  Boston  in  the  flag-ship  in 
1706,  he  was  met  by  a  committee  from  Deerfield  who 
invited  him  to  return  to  his  former  charge ;  and  though 
he  had  received  some  propositions  from  a  church  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Boston,  the  brave  man  went  back, 
to  the  perils  of  the  border,  saying,  "  I  must  return  and 
look  after  my  sheep  in  the  wilderness."  Here  he  was 
content  to  live  and  labor,  and  here,  after  a  ministry  of 
forty-three  years  he  was  gathered  to  his  rest.  A  stone 
in  the  old  burying-ground  marks  the  place  where  his 
ashes  repose. 

During  the  years  that  intervened  between  the  de 
struction  of  the  town  in  1 704,  and  the  treaty  of  Utrecht, 
in  1713,  Indian  depredations  and  murders  were  fre 
quent.  Then  the  land  had  rest,  for  a  season,  and 
prosperity  returned  to  the  homes  and  the  fields  of  the 
Deerfield  farmers. 

Again,  in  1744,  when  many  of  the  heroes  of  the 
former  conflicts  had  passed  away,'  war  broke  out  be 
tween  England  and  France,  and  its  threatening  shadow 
fell  once  more  upon  this  peaceful  valley.  On  the  25th 
of  August,  1 746,  a  party  of  laborers  were  assailed  by 
the  savages  at  a  point  in  the  south  meadow  known  as 
''The  Bars;"  several  of  them  were  killed  and  others 
carried  into  captivity.  Eunice  Allen,  then  a  young 
girl,  was  pursued  by  an  Indian  who  plynged  his  toma 
hawk  into  her  skull  and  left  her  for  dead;  but  she  re 
covered  from  the  frightful  wound  and  lived  to  be  more 
than  eighty  years  old.  This  was  the  last  serious  col 
lision  with  the  Indians  in  the  history  of  Deerfield. 


NOBLES   AND    NOTABLES.  65 

Single  persons  were  killed  and  captured  after  this  time, 
but  nothing  occurred  which  amounted  to  a  disturbance 
of  the  tranquillity  of  the  town. 

From  the  hardy  men  who  fought  these  battles  a 
worthy  progeny  has  sprung,  among  whom  many  emi 
nent  names  are  found.  Ephraim  Williams,  Esq.,  an 
eminent  jurist,  and  the  first  reporter  of  the  decisions 
of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Massachusetts,  was  born 
here,  in  1760,  married  at  the  age  of  sixty,  and  his  son 
— the  child  of  his  old  age,  is  the  revered  and  trusted 
Episcopal  bishop  of  Connecticut.  Richard  Hildreth, 
the  historian,  President  Hitchcock  of  Amherst  Col 
lege,  and  General  Rufus  Saxton,  all  belong  by  birth 
to  Deerfield.  General  Epaphras  Hoyt,  the  author  of 
the  history  upon  which  liberal  drafts  have  been  made 
in  the  preparation  of  this  sketch,  lived  and  died  in  this 
town.  His  book  is  a  monument  of  research,  fidelity 
and  literary  skill. 

Having  put  ourselves  in  possession  of  some  of  the 
important  facts  in  the  history  of  this  old  town  we  are 
now  prepared  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  the  things  we 
shall  see.  The  road  leads  southward  from  the  Public 
Square  past  the  shops  of  the  Russell  Manufacturing 
Company,  under  the  high  bridge  of  the  Troy  and 
Greenfield  Railroad  spanning  Green  River,  through 
Cheapside,  under  the  bridge  of  the  Connecticut  River 
Railroad,  crossing  Deerfield  River,  upon  which  we 
looked  down  from  the  Bear's  Den  ;  across  the  old 
wagon  bridge,  where  toll  is  no  longer  demanded,  and 
along  the  eastern  border  of  the  Deerfield  Meadows. 


66      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

The  owners  of  two  thousand  acres  of  these  meadows 
were  for  a  long  time  members  of  a  corporation  known 
as  "  The  Proprietors  of  the  Common  Field"  The  fences 
around  the  whole  were  built  by  the  corporation  ;  each 
man  cultivated  his  own  land  in  the  summer,  and  in  the 
fall,  after  the  crops  were  gathered,  all  pastured  them  in 
common.  The  incorporation  has  lately  expired  by 
limitation.  Soon  we  are  at  the  entrance  of  Deerfield 
street  and  it  is  safe  to  predict  that  not  many  of  us  have 
ever  seen  one  more  beautiful.  It  is  just  a  mile  in 
length ;  and  the  branches  of  the  majestic  elms,  meet 
ing  over  head  form  a  lengthened  canopy  for  the  whole 
of  that  distance.  An  old  brown  house  on  the  right 
not  long  after  we  enter  the  village  is  the  residence  of 
George  Sheldon,  Esq.  \  a  gentleman  of  extensive  an 
tiquarian  research,  and  of  excellent  historical  judgment, 
who  has  done  more  than  any  other  living  man  to  col 
lect  and  sift  the  traditions  of  this  old  town.  Mr.  Shel 
don  has  one  of  the  largest  collections  of  Indian  an 
tiquities  to  be  found  in  the  country.  He  was  the  man 
of  whom  the  witty  Springfield  Republican  said  that  it 
was  his  delight  to  invite  a  company  of  antiquarians 
to  supper,  and  then  to  amuse  them  afterward  by  dig 
ging  up  Indian  skulls  in  his  back  yard.  Mr.  Sheldon 
is  now  engaged  upon  a  work  for  which  he  is  thoroughly 
qualified,  and  which  all  his  neighbors  hope  he  may  live 
to  accomplish  —  the  preparation  of  a  history  of  his 
native  town.  When  it  is  done  it  will  be  well  done, 
and  no  descendant  of  Deerfield  can  afford  to  do  with 
out  it.  The  Unitarian  Church  is  a  brick  edifice  on 


MEETING-HOUSE    HILL.  6/ 

the  west  side  of  the  street,  and  at  the  north  end  of 
the  Common.  The  slight  elevation  on  which  it  stands' 
was  known  "among  the  early  settlers  as  "  Meeting- 
House  Hill."  The  northern  boundary  of  the  old  fort 
ran  along  this  bank;  it  extended  far  enough  east  to 
enclose  the  houses  on  the  east  side  of  the  street.  It 
was  an  irregular  oblong  enclosure,  its  greatest  length 
being  from  west  to  east.  The  elevation  on  which  it 
stood  was  once  an  island  in  the  lake ;  and  was  very 
likely  wooded,  when  the  settlers  took  possession.  A 
white  house  stands  fronting  on  the  Common  directly 
in  the  rear  of  the  church,  on  the  spot  where  the  old 
Indian  House  stood.  The  Pocumtuck  House  is  an 
excellent  hotel  on  the  south  side  of  the  street,  in  the 
hall  of  which  we  shall  find  the  Indian  Door.  The  next 
house  beyond  the  hotel,  was  probably  standing  when 
the  town  was  burnt  in  1704.  In  the  Common  stands 
a  beautiful  shaft  of  brown  freestone,  surmounted  by  the 
statue  of  a  soldier  in  fatigue  dress,  with  a  rifle  at  the  po 
sition  of  "  load."  Engraved  upon  the  monument,  with 
various  appropriate  mottoes,  and  the  names  of  the  bat 
tles  and  prisons  in  which  they  gave  up  their  lives  are 
the  names  of  forty-two  soldiers, — and  this  inscription  : 

"In  grateful  appreciation  of  the  Patriotism  and  self  sacrifice 
of  her  lamented  sons  and  soldiers,  who  for  their  Country  and  for 
Freedom  laid  down  their  lives  in  the  war  of  the  Great  Rebellion, 
Deerfield  erects  this  monument,  A.  D.  1867.  Their  precious 
dust  is  scattered  on  many  battle  fields  or  was  hastily  buried  near 
some  loathsome  prison  pen  ;  but  the  memory  of  their  brave 
deeds  and  willing  sacrifices  shall  be  cherished  in  our  heart  of 
hearts  sacredly  and  forever. 


68      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

"This  Monument  stands  upon  the  Old  Meeting-House  Hi!!, 
and  is  within  the  limits  of  the  Old  Fort,  built  A.  D.  1689,  and 
which  remained  until  A.  D.  1758,  and  was  one  of  the  chief  de 
fenses  of  the  early  settlers  against  the  attacks  of  savage  Indians. 
With  pious  affection  and  gratitude,  their  descendants  would 
hereby  associate  the  sacrifices  and  sufferings  of  the  Fathers  of 
the  town  in  establishing  our  institutions  with  those  of  their 
children  in  defending  them." 

"Aye,  call  it  holy  ground, 

The  soil  where  first  they  trod 
They  have  left  unstained,  what  here  they  found, 
Freedom  to  worship  God." 

The  Orthodox  Congregational  Church  is  a  neat, 
white  edifice  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  street,  front 
ing  southward.  Between  the  two  houses  standing 
north  of  this  church  on  the  principal  street,  it  is  said 
that  there  was  formerly  an  underground  passage  pro 
vided  for  the  safety  of  the  inmates  during  the  Indian 
wars.  On  the  south  of  the  common  a  side  street  leads 
down  to  the  old  burying-ground,  past  the  old  home  of 
President  Hitchcock  on  the  left,  and  the  spot  on  the 
right  where  stood  the  residence  of  Parson  Williams, 
and  where  his  well  still  remains.  Here  lie  buried  many 
of  the  victims  of  Indian  barbarity.  The  date  of  the 
oldest  inscription  is  1695.  A  little  guide-board  marks 
the  spot. 

Leaving,  now,  this  quiet  street  whose  atmosphere  is 
pervaded  with  old  memories,  let  us  drive  to  the  top  of 
Pocumtuck  Rock,  which  overlooks  the  village  and  the 
valley.  There  let  us  sit  down  and  muse  awhile,  feast 
ing  our  eyes  upon  the  beautiful  picture  at  our  feet,  and 


THE  VIEWS  FROM  SUGAR  LOAF.       69 

supplying  in  our  imagination  the  scenes  that  have  trans 
pired  during  the  last  two  hundred  years  within  the 
circle  of  these  hills. 

Another  day,  perhaps,  we  will  drive  -further  south 
through  the  meadows,  along  the  route  where  Lathrop 
and  his  troops  and  teamsters  marched  so  many  years 
ago,  to  the  spot  where  they  were  slaughtered,  now 
marked  by  a  marble  cenotaph.  This  monument  was 
dedicated  in  1835,  with  an  oration  by  Hon.  Edward 
Everett.  While  we  are  in  this  neighborhood  too,  we 
will  climb  to  the  top  of  Sugar  Loaf,  the  hill  at  the  base 
of  which  the  fight  took  place. 

"  It  is  a  conical  peak  of  red  sandstone,  five  hundred 
feet  above  the  plain.  It  stands  on  the  west  bank  of 
the  Connecticut,  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  river, 
and  rises  almost  perpendicularly  from  the  meadows- 
below.  Sugar  Loaf  stands  as  it  were  at  the  head  of 
the  valley,  and  the  southern  view  is  remarkable  for  its 
beauty.  On  the  left,  east  of  the  river,  and  almost  un 
derneath  the  mountain,  is  the  village  .of  Sunderland, 
accessible  from  the  west  side  by  a  covered  bridge. 
South,  and  on  the  same  side  of  the  river,  are  the  vil 
lages  of  North  Amherst,  Amherst,  Belchertown,  North 
Hadley  and  Hadley.  On  the  west  side  are  South  Deer- 
field,Whately,  Hatfield,  Northampton  and  Easthampton. 
Skirting  the  southern  horizon  are  the  lofty  peaks  of 
Mounts  Holyoke  and  Tom,  and  between  them,  through 
the  gateway  to  the  ocean,  glimmering  in  the  sunlight, 
are  the  church  spires  in  Holyoke  and  Chicopee."* 

*  Burt's  Connecticut  Valley  Guide. 


7O      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

From  Greenfield  to  Sugar  Loaf  it  is  only  eight  miles, 
— an  easy  and  delightful  afternoon  excursion ;  and  the 
ascent  of  the  mountain  is  not  difficult.  At  the  hotel 
on  the  summit  we  may  find  rest  and  refreshment. 

TURNER'S  FALLS. 

Up  Main  street  to  High  street,  then  northward, 
along  a  level  and  pleasant  road.  The  mills  and  tene 
ments  of  the  Greenfield  Woolen  Company  stand  in 
Factory  Hollow,  through  which  Fall  River  runs  to  the 
Connecticut.  A?  certain  eminent  actor  and  elocution 
ist  visiting  once  at  Greenfield  rode  out  this  way  one 
fine  morning  to  visit  Turner's  Falls.  On  the  left  hand 
of  the  road  he  saw  this  mill-dam  which  he  took  for 
the  famous  cataract, — on  the  right  the  frames  for  dry 
ing  cloth  which  he  supposed  were  seats  erected  for  the 
convenience  of  visitors  to  the  Falls.  Back  he  galloped 
to  the  village  and  gave  free  expression  to  his  contempt 
for  people  who  could  make  so  much  fuss  about  so 
small  a  thing.  Afterward  he  went  farther  and  changed 
his  mind.  Not  far  from  the  mill  we  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  Falls  through  the  gorge  which  Fall  River  has 
cloven  through  the  rocks.  It  is  only  a  glimpse,  but 
it  quickens  our  pulses,  and  we  hurry  on  to  the  sum 
mit  of  the  hill.  And  now  that  this  little  book  may  not 
be  charged  with  too  much  enthusiasm  in  its  descrip 
tion,  let  us  copy  a  sketch  of  the  Falls  from  a  work  as 
solid  as  Hitchcock's  Report  on  the  Geology  of  Mass 
achusetts. 

"They  are  by  far  the  most  interesting  water-falls  in  the 


THE    NIAGARA    OF    NEW    ENGLAND.  71 

State,  and  I  think  I  may  safely  say  in  New  England. 
Above  Turner's  Falls  the  Connecticut  for  about  three 
miles  pursues  a  course  nearly  north-west,  through  a 
region  scarcely  yet  disturbed  by  cultivation;  and  all 
this  distance  is  as  placid  as  a  mountain  lake  even  to 
the  very  verge  of  the  cataract.  There  an  artificial 
dam  has  been  erected,  more  than  a  thousand  feet  long, 
resting  near  the  center  upon  two  small  islands.  Over 
this  dam  the  water  leaps  more  than  thirty  feet  perpen 
dicularly;  and  for  half  a  mile  continues  descending 
rapidly  and  foaming  along  its  course.  One  hundred 
rods  below  the  falls  the  stream  strikes  directly  against 
a  lofty  greenstone  ridge,  by  which  it  it  compelled  to 
change  its  course  towards  the  south  at  least  a  quarter 
of  a  mile.  The  proper  point  for  viewing  Turner's 
Falls  is  from  the  road  leading  to  Greenfield  on  the 
north  shore,  perhaps  fifty  rods  below  the  cataract — 
[just  where  we  are  standing  now.]  Here  from  ele 
vated  ground  you  have  directly  before  you  the  princi 
pal  fall  intersected  near  the  center  by  two  small  rocky 
islands  which  are  crowned  by  trees  and  brush-wood. 
The  observer  perceives  at  once  that  Niagara  is  before 
him  in  miniature.  These  islands  may  be  reached  by 
a  canoe  from  above  the  falls  with  perfect  safety.  Fifty 
rods  below  the  cataract  a  third  most  romantic  little 
island  lifts  its  evergreen  head, — an  image  of  peace  and 
security  in  the  midst  of  the  agitated  and  foaming 
waters  swiftly  gliding  by.  The  placid  aspect  of  the 
waters  above  the  fall,  calmly  emerging  from  the  mod 
erately  elevated  and  wooded  hills  at  a  distance  is 


72      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

finely  contrasted  with  the  foam  and  tumult  below  the 
cataract.  During  high  water,  the  roar  of  Turner's 
Falls  may  be  heard  from  six  to  ten  miles.  The  mag 
nificence  of  the  cataract  is  greatly  heightened  at  such 
a  season." 

Here  occurred  the  famous  Falls  Fight.  On  the 
evening  of  the  iyth  of  May,  1676,  about  eight  months 
after  the  terrible  massacre  at  Sugar  Loaf,  Captain 
Turner  marched  with  one  hundred  and  sixty  mounted 
men  from  Hatfield,  twenty  miles  below,  to  attack  the 
Indians  who  had  gathered  here  to  fish  in  large  num 
bers.  Just  before  daybreak  they  reached  an  elevated 
hill  not  far  from  where  the  woolen  mill  now  stands, 
where  they  dismounted,  fastened  their  horses,  and 
crossing  Fall  River,  climbed  to  the  spot  where  we  are 
standing  now,  and  looked  down  upon  an  Indian  camp 
which  was  pitched  near  the  head  of  the  falls.  The 
Indians  were  all  in  a  profound  sleep  without  even  a 
watch.  "  Roused  from  their  slumbers  by  the  sudden 
roar  of  musketry  they  fled,  toward  the  river,  vocifera 
ting  'Mohawks!  Mohawks!'  believing  this  furious 
enemy  was  upon  them.  Many  leaped  into  their  ca 
noes,  some  in  the  hurry  forgetting  their  paddles  and 
attempting  to  swim  were  shot  by  the  English  or  pre 
cipitated  down  the  dreadful  cataract  and  drowned  ; 
while  others  were  killed  in  their  cabins  or  took  shel 
ter  under  the  shelving  rocks  of  the  river  bank,  where 
they  were  cut  down  by  their  assailants  without  much 
resistance.  The  loss  of  the  Indians  was  severe,  one 
hundred  were  left  dead  on  the  ground,  and  one  hun- 


THE    NEW    CITY.  73 

dred  and  forty  were  seen  to  pass  down  the  cataract, 
but  one  of  whom  escaped  drowning.  A  few  gained 
the  opposite  shore  and  joined  their  companions  on 
that  side.  The  whole  loss,  as  was  afterwards  acknowl 
edged,  amounted  to  above  three  hundred  of  all  de 
scriptions,  among  whom  were  many  of  their  principal 
sachems."* 

Only  one  Englishman  was  killed.  On  his  return, 
however,  the  Indians,  whose  force  greatly  outnumbered 
Turner's,  rallied,  and  pursued  him ;  dividing  and  scat 
tering  his  little  army,  and  killing  Turner  himself,  with 
thirty-eight  of  his  men. 

A  short  distance  above  the  falls  we  cross  by  a  ferry 
from  the  town  of  Gill  to  the  town  of  Montague,  and 
drive  down  the  stream  to  the  new  city,  whose  founda 
tions  are  now  being  laid.  The  dam  which  Dr.  Hitch 
cock  describes  is  not  the  one  now  standing.  In  1792 
a  company  was  incorporated  under  the  title  of  the 
"  Proprietors  of  the  Upper  Locks  and  Canals  in  the 
County  of  Hampshire,"  that  built  a  dam  and  a  canal 
three  miles  long  at  this  point,  for  the  purpose  of  facili 
tating  the  navigation  of  the  river.  In  1866,  the  name 
of  this  corporation  was  changed  to  The  Turner's  Falls 
Company,  seven  hundred  acres  of  land  were  purchased 
by  them ;  a  new  dam  was  built, — the  streets  and  ave 
nues  of  a  new  city  were  laid  out,  and  one  of  the  largest 
water  powers  in  New  England  was  developed.  This 
dam  is  one  thousand  feet  long,  in  two  curved  sections ; 
and  it  has  an  average  fall  of  thirty-six  feet.  It  is  built 

*Hoyt's  Indian  Wars,  p.  139. 


74      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

of  timber  and  entirely  filled  with  stone,  making  it  prac 
tically  a  stone  dam.  While  the  dam  was  building,  in 
the  winter  of  1866-7,  a  portion  of  it  about  one  hun 
dred  feet  in  length  was  carried  away.  The  whole  Con 
necticut  River  poured  with  tremendous  force  through 
this  opening  a  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  the  hydraulic 
engineers  declared  that  the  section  could  not  be  re 
stored.  But  a  plain  man  in  Greenfield,  whose  name 
is  George  W.  Potter,  and  who  is  not  an  engineer,  said 
it  could  be  done,  and  did  it.  It  was  probably  one  of 
the  most  difficult  feats  of  hydraulic  engineering  ever 
attempted.  Standing  on  the  bulk-head,  the  view  of  the 
fall  and  the  rapids  below  is  magnificent. 

Below  this  dam  two  canals  are  being  constructed, 
the  one  twenty-five  feet  above  the  other;  and  upon 
these  two  canals,  provision  is  made  for  thirty-one  mill 
sites,  averaging  three  hundred  horse  power  each. 
This  does  not  utilize  more  than  half  of  the  power. 
The  property  is  rapidly  being  taken  up.  The  Russell 
Manufacturing  Company  are  erecting  one  building  six 
hundred  and  ten  feet  long  by  fifty  feet  wide ;  and  this 
is  only  about  one-third  of  the  area  of  the  buildings  to 
be  erected  by  them.  Their  new  shops  will  give  em 
ployment  to  twelve  hundred  men.  Other  mills  will 
soon  be  built,  and  within  twenty  years  we  may  expect 
to  see  a  city  of  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants 'upon  this 
ground. 

In  the  new  red  sandstone,  which  constitutes  the 
banks  of  the  river  at  the  Falls,  were  found  the  fossil 
foot-prints  which  were  such  a  prize  to  the  geologists. 


FOSSILS    PAST   AND    FUTURE.  75 

Somewhere  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  thousand  years 
ago,  a  large  number  of  birds  of  both  sexes  and  all 
sizes  (some  of  them  standing  not  less  than  ten  feet 
without  their  stockings)  were  in  the  habit  of  walking 
out  at  low  water  on  the  beach  of  a  lake  or  estuary,  then 
occupying  these  parts.  Their  foot-prints,  hardened 
by  the  sun,  were  afterward  filled  by  the  rising  water 
with  sand  and  mud ;  and  then  the  whole  mass  was 
petrified.  How  do  we  know  all  this?  Look  here 
madam  !  You  must  not  come  round  us  geologists 
saying  you  want  to 'know,  you  know.  We  have  made 
some  pretty  shrewd  guesses,  and  we  intend  to  stand 
by  them. 

We  drive  homeward,  along  the  serene  and  somewhat 
slimy  banks  of  the  old  canal,  musing  on  these  foot 
marks  with  the  unpronounceable  Greek  names,  all  so 
neatly  classified  and  labeled.  Cuvier  said  that  if  you 
would  give  him  a  single  bone  he  could  construct  the 
skeleton  of  the  animal.  But  these  geologists  make 
pictures  of  the  ancient  birds  by  studying  the  tracks 
they  left  in  the  primitive  mud.  Imagine  the  pictures 
which  will  be  drawn  by  geologists  fifty  or  a  hundred 
thousand  years  hence,  when  the  tracks  that  were  made 
last  summer  in  the  sand  at  Newport  or  Long  Branch 
are  quarried  out  of  the  rock !  Imagine  a  geologist 
studying  the  fossil  track  of  a  Grecian  bender  and  try 
ing  to  frame  a  figure  to  correspond  ! 

The  moral  is,  ladies,  that  you  should  never  walk  in 
the  mud. 

Down  through  the  single  street  of  what  was  to  have 


76      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

been  and  still  is  called  a  City,  whose  other  name  is 
Montague;  across  the  old  bridge  which  is  to  give 
place  for  a  new  one  for  both  wagons  and  cars,  where 
the  railroad  is  to  cross  now  building  to  Turner's 
Falls ;  over  the  hill,  looking  backward  to  take  our  last 
leave  of  the  beautiful  Connecticut,  and  down  into  the 
village  again,  by  a  road  that  has  grown  familiar. 

OTHER    DRIVES. 

The  Stillwater  Drive  is  deservedly  popular  about 
Greenfield.  The  road  to  Conway  is  followed,  which 
leads  across  the  railroad  track,  then  turns  to  the  right, 
crosses  Pettis'  Plain,  where  De  Rouville's  French  and 
Indians  halted  on  the  morning  when  they  made  their 
assault  upon  Old  Deerfield ;  then  turns  to  the  left  along 
the  margin  of  the  old  lake  which  is  now  the  meadow, 
having  in  sight  continually  a  most  beautiful  landscape ; 
passes  over  Stillwater  Bridge,  into  that  part  of  the 
meadow  called  "The  Bars,"  where  the  last  fight  oc 
curred,  and  returns  by  way  of  Old  Deerfield. 

Leyden  Glen  or  Gorge  is  a  place  much  visited  by 
tourists.  A  large  brook  has  worn  a  passage  from  ten 
to  twenty  feet  wide,  and  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  deep  in 
the  strata  of  argillo-micaceous  slate.  The  length  of  the 
gorge  is  about  forty  rods.  Above  the  gorge  is  a  deep 
glen,  and  below  it  the  stream  passes  through  a  ravine. 
Two  beautiful  water-falls  near  the  mouth  of  the  gorge 
greatly  add  to  the  picturesqueness  of  the  spot.  It 
compares  not  unfavorably  with  the  famous  Flume  at 
the  White  Mountains.  Not  far  from  the  entrance  to 


FOREST  AND  BROOKSIDE  ROADS.      7/ 

the  glen,  the  place  is  pointed  out  where  Mrs.  Eunice 
Williams  was  murdered  on  the  march  to  Canada. 

Romantic  and  delightful  roads  pass  through  The 
Shdburne  and  Coleraine  Gorges;  you  can  go  by  the  one 
and  return  by  the  other. 

One  of  the  roads  to  Shelburne  takes  you  for  a  long 
distance  through  cool  and  pleasant  woods,  and  for 
three  or  four  miles  a  brook  is  your  constant  companion. 
Beyond  the  .woods  you  look  back  upon  another  charm 
ing,  view  of  Greenfield  and  the  Deerfield  Valley. 

These  are  only  part  of  the  pleasant  excursions  you 
can  make  in  the  neighborhood  of  Greenfield.  For  the 
rest,  consult  Stevens  of  the  Mansion  House.  There 
are  two  of  them  and  either  of  them  is  a  host  in  more 
senses  than  one.  What  they  cannot  tell  you  about 
things  worth  seeing  in  this  region  is  not  worth  knowing. 


CHAPTER  III. 

FROM  GREENFIELD  TO  NORTH  ADAMS.  . 

THE  Troy  and  Greenfield  Railroad,  from  Green 
field  to  the  Hoosac  Tunnel,  is  owned  by  the 
Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  but  is  leased  and 
operated  by  the  Vermont  and  Massachusetts  Railroad 
Company.  The  airy  and  pleasant  cars  of  this  com 
pany  take  us  on  board  at  the  Greenfield  station,  and 
we  are  soon  passing  over  the  high  bridge  across  Green 
River,  and  steaming  swiftly  along  the  table-land  that 
overlooks  the  Deerfield  Valley.  West  Deerfield  is 
the  name  of  the  station  at  Still  water;  and  just  before 
reaching  it  we  look  far  away  across  the  meadows  upon 
two  peaks  in  the  southern  horizon  which  must  be  Tom 
and  Holyoke.  The  gorge  from  which  the  Deerfield 
River  emerges,  and  into  which  we  enter  at  this  point,  is 
the  wildest  and  most  beautiful  spot  we  have  yet  found 
in  our  railroading.  "As  to  the  defile,"  says  Dr.  Hitch 
cock-  in  his  Geological  Report,  "  through  which  Deer- 
field  River  runs  between  Shelburne  and  Conway,  it  is 
so  narrow  thatfH  is  difficult  even  on  foot  to  find  a  pass- 


SHELBURNE    FALLS.  79 

age;  though  full  of  romantic  and  sublime  objects  to 
the  man  who  has  the  strength  and  courage  to  pass 
through  it."  But  what  the  turnpike  did  not  dare  to 
do  the  railroad  has  done;  it  has  hugged  the  river 
'  closely  all  the  way,  and  thus  has  given  us  a  constant 
succession  of  magnificent  scenes,  of  which  the  high 
way  altogether  defrauded  the  traveler.  Any  elaborate 
description  of  these  scenes  is  superfluous.  The  traveler 
must  not  be  looking  in  his  book ;  he  must  be  looking 
out  of  the  window. 

Shelburne  Falls  is  a  thriving  town  twelve  miles  from 
Greenfield.  The  cataract  in  the  Deerfield  at  this  point 
is  a  beautiful  one,  though  the  glimpse  of  it  that  we  get 
from  the  cars  is  hardly  satisfactory.  Here  is  another 
mammoth  cutlery  establishment,  next  to  the  Russell 
Works  at  Greenfield  in  size  and  importance.  Messrs. 
Lamson  and  Goodnow  are  the  proprietors.  The  ex 
cellent  water-power  afforded  by  these  falls  is  turned  to 
good  account  in  manufacturing.  Here  resided,  until 
his  death  within  the  past  year,  Mr.  Linus  Yale,  Jr., 
whose  father  picked  the  locks  of  Hobbes,  the  English 
man,  so  cleverly,  and  who  himself  made  a  lock  that  the 
Englishman  could  not  pick.  The  Yale  locks,  known 
everywhere,  are  made  here.  The  village  of  Shelburne 
Falls  puts  in  a  fine  appearance,  scattered  along  the 
narrow  valley,  and  upon  the  adjacent  hill-sides.  Two 
churches  confronting  each  other  on  one  of  the  streets 
made  us  think  of  Dr.  Holmes,  who,  you  know,  was 
always  reminded,  when  he  saw  two  churches  situated 
in  this  manner,  of  a  pair  of  belligerent  roosters,  with 


8O      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

tails  erect  and  crests  ruffled,  eyeing  each  other  at  close 
quarters.  These  two  churches,  it  is  pleasant  to  know, 
are  not  in  a  state  of  war,  nor  even  in  a  condition  of 
armed  neutrality,  though  their  edifices  may  be  in  a 
threatening  attitude. 

Beyond  Shelburne  Falls  is  Buckland,  a  small  station 
where  travelers  will  be  amused  to  see  a  sort  of  tele 
graphic  contrivance  for  carrying-  the  mail  across  the 
river.  It  is  a  good  illustration  of  Yankee  ingenuity. 
Part  of  the  territory  of  Buckland  was  formerly  called 
"No  Town."  To  this  unpretending  old  town,  .the 
thoughts  of  many  will  make  pilgrimages,  though  their 
eyes  may  never  see  the  glory  of  its  wooded  hills.  It 
was  the  birthplace  of  Mary  Lyon.  Here  the  valley  of 
the  Deerfield,  which  for  much  of  the  distance  since  we 
left  Stillwater  has  been  only  a  gorge,  grows  a  little 
wider,  and  there  are  good  farms,  with  excellent  or 
chards,  on  both  sides  of  the  river.  Without  doubt,  this 
valley,  in  which  part  of  Buckland  and  nearly  the  whole 
of  Charlemont  lie,  was  once  a  lake.  But  though  the 
hills  recede  from  the  river  they  do  not  lose  their  at 
tractiveness.  Their  symmetrical  outlines  present  to 
us  a  constant  and  charming  variety  of  graceful  and 
beautiful  forms.  This  river,  whose  banks  we  follow, — 
now  lying  placidly  in  the  midst  of  green  meadows,  or 
winding  through  willow  thickets ;  now  rippling  with  a 
musical  delight,  which  we  can  feel  if  we  cannot  hear 
it,  over  broad  and  shallow  places;  now  reflecting  in 
its  smooth  pure  waters,  long  reaches  of  shingly  shores 
or  islands ;  now  plunging  madly  down  tortuous  rapids ; 


A -WAYSIDE    INN.  8 1 

this  matchless  Deerfield  River  is  to  every  traveler  who 
follows  its  course  a  ceaseless  fascination,  a  perpetual 
delight.  The  quickest  and  most  loving  eye  seizes  but 
few  of  its  many  charms  in  one  journey ;  and  with  as 
poor  a  pigment  as  printers'  ink  one  could  hardly  paint 
them. 

Charlemont  is  an  old  town,  extending  fourteen  miles 
along  the  river:   and  from  one  to  three  miles  wide. 

O  ' 

The  principal  village  is  across  the  river  from  the  rail 
road,  and  among  other  distinguishments  boasts'one  of 
the  best  old  fashioned  country  inns  to  be  found  any 
where  this  side  the  water.  "  Deacon  "  Dalrymple,  the 
inn-keeper,  is  a  character  in  his  way.  The  figure  of 
speech  by  which  his  title  is  applied  to  him  is  not  down 
in  the  historical  books ;  but  his  inn,  unlike  his  title,  is 
not  a  figure  of  speech  at  all.  If  you  want  a  good, 
square,  country  meal,  -with  no  nonsense  about  it,  the 
Deacon  is  your  man.  And  yet,  so  indifferent  is  he  to 
patronage  and  so  averse  to  praise,  that  he  will  be  likely 
to  resent  this  little  notice  as  a  mortal  injury ;  and  the 
writer  will  never  dare  to  show  himself  on  that  side  of 
the  river.  The  only  motive  of  this  paragraph  is  the 
public  good.  There  are  so  few  good  country  taverns 
in  the  land  that  any  man  in  such  a  place  who  can  keep 
a  hotel,  and  wont  keep  a  hotel  ought  to  be  made  to 
keep  a  hotel. 

The  old  town  has  sent  forth  some  celebrities.     Ex- 
Governor  Washburne  was  born  here;   Rev.  Roswell 
Hawkes,   and    Rev.  Theron    M.    Hawkes,  both   well 
known  Orthodox  ministers  are  natives  of  this  town; 
4* 


82      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

Hon.  Joseph  White,  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Educa 
tion,  hails  from  this  valley. 

In  early  days  this  town  included  a  part  of  what  is 
now  Heath,  the  town  adjoining  it  on  the  north.  Dur 
ing  the  Revolution,  Rev.  Jonathan  Leavitt,  father  of 
Hon.  Jonathan  Leavitt,  of  the  Court  of  Common 
Pleas,  and  of  Dr.  Joshua  Leavitt  of  the  New  York 
Independent,  was  the  Congregational  pastor  here,  and 
made  no  small  stir  among  his  people  in  one  way  and 
another.  He  was  not  quite  sound  in  his  theology, 
many  thought;  he  was  not  so  ardent  a  Whig  as  some 
of  his  townsmen,  and  his  views  on  the  subject  of 
finance  troubled  them  exceedingly.  It  seems  that 
the  town  (the  town  and  the  parish  were  identical  in 
those  days)  had  voted  before  the  war  to  give  him 
so  much  salary;  and  when  the  Continental  paper 
money  had  depreciated  so  that  it  wasn't  worth  a 
Continental,  they  wanted  to  pay  the  parson  in  that, 
to  which  he  strenuously  objected.  When  they  cast 
him  out  of  the  church,  he  entered  into  the  school- 
house  and  preached  there;  and  after  the  war  he 
sued  the  towns  of  Heath  and  Charlemont  for  the 
arrearages  in  his  salary.  The  lower  court  decided 
against  him,  but  the  Supreme  Court  reversed  the 
decision,  and  awarded  to  Mr.  Leavitt  ^"500  for 
preaching  in  the  school-house,  and  ,£200  Jbr  loss 
suffered  through  the  depreciation  of  paper  currency. 
If  all  the  dominies  in  the  land  should  collect  by 
law  from  their  parishes  the  difference  in  their  sala 
ries  between  gold  and  greenbacks  during  the  late 


AN  "EX-PARTE"  COUNCIL.  83 

war,  some  of  them  would  have  money  enough  to  take 
a  trip  to  Europe. 

In  this  quarrel  between  Mr.  Leavitt  and  his  parish, 
no  doubt  the  parson  had  the  law  on  his  side ;  but  the 
methods  he  took  of  enforcing  his  claims  are  open  to 
severe  criticism.  As  much  might  be  said  of  some  of 
his  antagonists.  It  is  the  theory  of  the  Congrega 
tional  order  that  one  church  may  not  interfere  with 
the  affairs  of  another  except  to  give  advice  when  it  is 
called  for;  but  in  this  quarrel  we  find  Rev.  Mr.  Jones, 
of  Rowe,  coming  uninvited  at  the  head  of  a  posse  of 
his  parishioners,  to  give  advice  to  Mr.  Leavitt,  and 
bearing  in  his  hand  not  exactly  an  olive  branch,  or  the 
emblematical  balances,  but  a  bayonet  fastened  to  the 
end  of  a  rake's-tail !  Advice,  under  most  circum 
stances  is  easier  to  prescribe  than  to  swallow;  but 
under  such  circumstances  it  would  certainly  be  classed 
among  those  commodities  which  it  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive.  It  does  not  appear  that  Mr. 
Leavitt  was  persuaded  by  these  urgent  solicitations  of 
his  brethren. 

Above  Charlemont  the  scenery  grows  wilder.  Now 
we  are  plunging  into  the  heart  of  this  beautiful  region. 
The  valle^  contracts  to  a  narrow  gorge  ;  the  hills, 
wooded  from  base  to  summit,  rise  abruptly  from  the 
river-bed  a  thousand  feet  into  the  air.  How  the  river 
finds  its  passage  among  them  we  cannot  always  make 
out.  Looking  before  us,  we  can  discover  no  break  in 
the  solid  chain  of  hills ;  looking  behind  us  the  moun 
tain  wall  is  equally  impenetrable.  Still  the  river  has 


84      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON.       * 

leisure.  Doubtless  it  can  make  its  way.  Rivers 
always  do.  But  how  are  these  thundering,  screaming 
cars  to  thrid  this  Titan's  Labyrinth  ?  Is  there  not 
danger  that  they  will  come  to  a  sudden  halt  against 
that  solid  mountain  at  which  they  are  driving  so  fu 
riously?  The  danger  always  passes  before  we  have 
had  time  to  be  alarmed.  The  cul-de-sac  has  always 
an  opening.  The  train  skips  across  the  river,  bends 
sharply  round  a  curve,  and  darts  with  a  yell  of  triumph 
into  a  new  defile.  It  is  a  Titan's  Labyrinth,  but  the 
strength  and  swiftness  and  cunning  that  are  searching 
out  and  forcing  open  its  hidden  paths  for  us  are  more 
than  Titanic. 

Next  above  Charlemont  the  train  halts  at  Zoar. 
"  Is  it  not  a  little  one  ? "  said  the  patriarch  Lot  of  the 
city  of  that  name  to  which  he  fled.  Certainly  this  is 
not  a  very  big  one.  It  might  be  large  enough  to  hold 
a  patriarch,  but  there  certainly  is  not  room  for  a  lot  in 
it, — for  a  level  one  at  any  rate.  Somebody  at  your 
elbow  who  knows  more  than  he  ought  to  know  sug 
gests  that  Lot  was  not  always  exactly  level ! 

Beyond  Zoar  the  grandeur  grows  apace.  We  pass 
on  the  left  a  covered  bridge  under  which  a  eataract 
tumbles ;  the  hills  are  closer,  higher,  and  steeper ;  the 
foliage  on  their  sides  more  dense  and  richer  in  variety. 
Soon  a  little  green  valley  laughs  at  us  from  across  the 
river;  the  train  slackens  its  speed,  the  brakeman 
shouts  "Hoosac  Tunnel!"  and  we  gather  our  bundles 
and  disembark. 

Dinner  at  Rice's,  an  old  and  excellent  country  tavern 


DEERFIELD  RIVER  AT  THE  EASTERN  PORTAL. 


LOAMI  BALDWIN'S  CANAL.       85 

across  the  river ;  and  then,  perhaps  we  will  spend  the 
afternoon  in  exploring  this  region,  and  in  making  our 
selves  familiar  with  what  is  here  to  be  seen  of 

THE   HOOSAC   TUNNEL. 

Up  to  this  point  the  Deerfield  River  has  given  us  an 
excellent  route  for  a  railroad.  But  just  here  we  find  it 
coming  down  from  the  north,  out  of  the  fastnesses  of 
the  Green  Mountains.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  follow 
its  course  any  higher  ;  and  it  would  lead  us  where  we 
do  not  wish  to  go.  Right  across  the  westward  path 
which  we  have  followed  nature  has  written,  in  the  bold 
horizon  lines  of  the  Hoosac  Mountain,  "  No  Thorough 
fare."  But  many  of  Nature's  legends  get  rubbed  out 
and  this  one  soon  will  be. 

The  project  of  tunneling  this  mountain  is  not  a  new 
one.  In  1825  a  board  of  commissioners  with  Loami 
Baldwin  as  engineer,  were  appointed  by  the  Legislature 
to  ascertain  the  practicability  of  making  a  canal  from 
Boston  to  the  Hudson  River.  They  examined  the 
country  by  way  of  Worcester,  Springfield,  and  the 
Westfield  River ;  and  also  by  Fitchburg,  and  the  Mil 
ler  and  Deerfield  Rivers,  making  the  village  of  North 
Adams  a  point  common  to  both  routes ;  and  reported 
that  "  there  was  no  hesitation  in  deciding  in  favor  of 
the  Deerfield  and  Hoosac  River  Route." 

At  the  Hoosac  their  examinations  were  extended 
both  to  the  north  and  south  of  the  present  line  of 
tunnel  with  a  view  to  discover  some  other  route  by 
which  it  might  be  avoided,  but  increased  distance  and 


86      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

lack  age  and  difficulty  of  procuring  water  led  them  to 
give  preference  to  the  tunnel.  In  their  report  they 
say :  "  There  is  no  hesitation,  therefore,  in  deciding  in 
favor  of  a  tunnel ;  but  even  if  its  expense  should  ex 
ceed  the  other  mode  of  passing  the  mountain,  a  tunnel 
is  preferable,  for  the  reasons  which  have  been  assigned. 
And  this  formidable  barrier  once  overcome,  the  re 
mainder  of  the  route,  from  the  Connecticut  to  the 
Hudson  presents  no  unusual  difficulties  in  the  con 
struction  of  a  canal,  but  in  fact  the  reverse  ;  being  re 
markably  feasible." 

During  this  very  year,  the  first  railway  was  opened 
in  America  for  the  conveyance  of  freight  and  passen 
gers,  and  the  attention  of  the  people  being  turned  to 
this  improved  method  of  communication  the  project 
of  building  a  canal  from  Boston  to  Troy  was  aban 
doned.  The  Boston  and  Albany  Railroad  was  com 
pleted  in  1842,  but  the  advantages  of  this  northern 
route  were  never  lost  sight  of.  The  thriving  towns 
along  the  line  looked  for  an  outlet  east  and  west,  and 
the  vast  undeveloped  resources  of  the  region  through 
which  the  railroad  would  pass  gave  abundant  encour 
agement  to  the  prosecution  of  the  work.  In  1845  tne 
first  section  of  the  road  was  opened  to  Fitchburg; 
shortly  afterward  the  Vermont  and  Massachusetts  Rail 
road  was  begun;  and  as  early  as  1848  the  Troy  and 
Greenfield  Railroad  Company  was  incorporated  by  the 
Legislature,  with  a  capital  of  three  million  five  hun 
dred  thousand  dollars,  and  was  authorized  to  build  a 
railroad  "  from  the  terminus  of  the  Vermont  and  Massa- 


BEGINNING   TO    BORE.  S/ 

chusetts  Railroad  at  Greenfield,  through  the  valleys  of 
the  Deerfield  and  Hoosac  to  the  State  line,  there  to 
unite  with  a  railroad  leading  to  the  city  of  Troy." 
The  road  must  be  located  within  two  years,  and  finished 
within  seven  years. 

The  feasibility  of  the  undertaking  was  not  apparent 
to  capitalists,  however ;  and  at  the  end  of  six  years 
the  subscription  books  of  the  company  showed  a  beg 
garly  array  of  blank  pages,  while  almost  nothing  had 
been  done  towards  the  construction  of  the  road.  Ef 
forts  had  been  made  during  this  time  to  obtain  a  State 
loan;  but  it  was  not  till  1854  that  the  Commonwealth 
loaned  its  credit  to  the  company  to  the  amount  of  two 
millions  of  dollars.  Under  this  act  a  contract  was 
made  with  E.  W.  Serrell  &  Company,  and  work  was 
begun  in  earnest  in  1855.  The  conditions  under  which 
the  loan  was  granted  were  found  difficult  of  fulfillment ; 
and  the  progress  of  the  work  was  impeded.  In  1856 
a  new  contract  was  made  with  H.  Haupt  &  Company 
by  which  the  company  agreed  to  pay  three  million 
eight  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  dollars  for  complet 
ing  the  road  and  tunnel.  From  this  time  till  1861  the 
work  was  carried  on  by  the  company  and  the  contrac 
tors.  Excavations  were  made  at  each  end  of  the  tun 
nel,  and  in  1858  the  western  section  of  the  road  was 
completed  to  the  State  line,  connecting  North  Adams 
with  Troy.  In  1861,  a  difficulty  arose  between  Haupt 
&  Company  and  the  State  Engineer  concerning  the 
payment  of  the  installments  of  the  State  loan,  which 
resulted  in  the  abandonment  of  the  work  by  the  con- 


88      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

tractors.  Nothing  farther  was  done  until  the  winter 
of  1862,  when  an  act  was  passed  providing  that  the 
State  should  take  possession  of  the  road,  the  tunnel, 
and  all  the  property  of  the  Troy  and  Greenfield  Com 
pany;  and  appointing  a  Commission  to  examine  the 
works  and  report  to  the  next  Legislature.  This  Com 
mission  made  an  elaborate  report  in  February,  1863^ 
recommending  the  prosecution  of  the  work  by  the 
State;  upon  which  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year 
work  was  resumed  by  the  commissioners,  under  the 
able  superintendence  of  Mr.  Thomas  Doane  who  had 
been  appointed  Chief  Engineer.  The  enterprise  was 
prosecuted  by  the  commissioners  until  the  winter  of 
1868,  when  the  Legislature  made  an  appropriation  of 
four  million  seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars 
for  the  completion  of  the  work,  requiring  that  it  should 
be  contracted  by  the  first  of  January  following.  The 
contract  was  taken  by  Messrs.  F.  Shanly  &  Brother 
of  Canada,  who  agree  to  finish  the  tunnel  and  lay  the 
track  by  March  i,  1874.  These  gentlemen  are  now 
rapidly  and  vigorously  carrying  on  the  work. 

The  length  of  the  tunnel  from  portal  to  portal  is  a 
little  more  than  four  miles  and  three  quarters,  and  the 
rock  through  which  it  passes,  except  at  the  extreme 
western  end  where  a  secondary  formation  overlays  the 
primary,  is  a  solid  mica  slate,  with  occasional  nodules 
of  quartz.  The  mountain  has  two  crests,  with  a  val 
ley  between  them.  The  one  which  overlooks  the 
Deerfield  is  about  fourteen  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above 
the  river  bed;  the  one  which  overlooks  the  Hoosac 


A   BIG   AUGER.  89 

is  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  bed  of 
that  river.  The  lowest  spot  in  the  depression  between 
these  peaks  on  the  line  of  the  tunnel  is  about  eight 
hundred  feet  above  the  grade. 

The  work  is  being  driven  from  both  ends;  and  in 
the  valley  at  the  top  of  the  mountain  a  shaft  is  being 
sunk,  from  which,  when  the  grade  is  reached,  excava 
tions  will  be  pushed,  east  and  west,  to  meet  those  that 
are  being  driven  inward.  This  shaft  besides  giving 
two  more  faces  on  which  to  work,  and  thus  expediting 
the  completion  of  the  tunnel,  is  expected  to  afford 
ventilation  when  the  tunnel  is  completed. 

At  first  the  work  was  all  done  by  hand-drills ;  but 
attempts  were  soon  made  to  construct  machines  for 
rock-cutting.  In  1851  a  monster  of  this  sort  weighing 
seventy  tons  was  constructed  at  South  Boston,  and 
"was  designed  to  cut  out  a  groove  around  the  circum 
ference  of  the  tunnel,  thirteen  inches  wide  and  twenty- 
four  feet  in  diameter,  by  means  of  a  set  of  revolving 
cutters.  When  this  groove  had  been  -cut  to  a  proper 
depth,  the  machine  was  to  be  run  rSack  on  its  railway 
and  the  center  core  blasted  out  by  gunpowder  or  split 
off  by  means  of  wedges.  It  was  conveyed  to  the 
Hoosac  mountain,  and,  the  approach  not  being  then 
completed,  was  put  in  operation  on  a  vertical  face  of 
rock  near  the  proposed  entrance  to  the  tunnel."  The 
Railroad  Committee  of  the  Legislature  after  examin 
ing  its  operations  were  fully  convinced  that  it  was  a 
stupendous  success.  It  was  operated  under  their  eyes 
for  full  fifteen  minutes,  during  which  time  it  cut  into 


QO      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

the  rock  four  and  one-eighth  inches,  or  at  the  rate  of 
sixteen  and  one  half  inches  per  hour.  At  that  rate, 
by  operating  at  both  ends,  the  tunnel  could  be  built  in 
about  two  years.  This  was  rosy.  But  unfortunately 
this  mechanical  behemoth  refused  to  go  on.  Ten  feet 
was  the  extent  of  its  progress.  It  amounted  to  old 
iron  and  that  was  all.  Nothing  daunted  by  this  fail 
ure,  Mr.  Haupt,  at  an  expense  of  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars,  procured  another  boring  machine.  This  was 
to  excavate  the  heading  only,  or  a  hole  eight  feet  in 
diameter;  which  was  afterwards  to  be  enlarged  by 
manual  labor  and  blasting.  Mr.  Haupt  was  sanguine 
about  this.  In  a  letter  to  General  Wool,  under  date 
of  September  25,  1858,  he  prophesies: — "The  slowest 
progress  of  the  machine  when  working  will  be  fifteen 
inches  per  hour;  the  fastest,  twenty-four  inches.  A 
machine  at  each  end  working  but  half  the  time  with 
the  slowest  speed,  should  go  through  the  mountain  in 
twenty-six  months."  But  this  promising  contrivance 
never  made  an  inch  of  progress  into  the  rock.  It  was 
"an  auger  that  wouldn't  bore." 

These  costly  experiments  with  tunneling  machines 
sufficed.  After  this  the  work  was  done  with  elbow 
grease  and  gunpowder  until  Mr.  Doane  took  charge  of 
the  tunnel,  when  preparations  were  immediately  made 
to  introduce  power  drills.  These  had  been  success 
fully  employed  on  the  great  Mount  Cenis  Tunnel  now 
constructing  under  the  Alps  between  France  and  Sar 
dinia.  The  impossibility  of  operating  machinery  with 
steam  in  a  tunnel,  owing  to  the  fouling  of  the  air  with 


POWER   DRILLS.  9 1 

smoke,  made  it  necessary  to  find  some  other  motive 
power  for  the  drills ;  and  the  engineers  of  the  Mount 
Cenis  Tunnel  at  length  succeeded  in  solving  this  prob 
lem.  Their  method  with  variations  and  improvements 
was  adopted  here.  Air  compressed  by  machinery  to 
a  pressure  of  six  atmospheres  or  ninety  pounds  to  the 
square  inch  is  carried  into  the  tunnel  in  iron  pipes,  and 
there  being  ejected  with  the  force  due  to  its  pressure, 
it  not  only  serves  to  move  the  piston  of  the  machine 
drill,  but  ventilates  the  tunnel.  The  dam  in  the  Deer- 
field  River  just  above  the  eastern  portal  of  the  tunnel 
furnishes  the  power  by  which  the  air-compressors  are 
driven. 

Under  the  management  of  Mr.  Haupt,  about  two 
thousand  four  hundred  feet  of  linear  excavation  was 
made  at  this  eastern  end.  The  distance  penetrated 
from  the  eastern  portal  at  the  transfer  of  the  work  to 
the  Messrs.  Shanly  was  five  thousand  two  hundred  and 
eighty-two  feet — just  two  feet  more  than  a  mile. 

THE    WEST    END. 

At  the  west  end  the  difficulties  of  the  work  have 
been  greatest.  On  this  side  the  mountain  wall  is  less 
abrupt  than  on  the  other;  and  on  entering  the  slope 
of  the  mountain  the  workmen  came  upon  a  solid  lime 
stone  rock  easy  of  excavation.  But  this  rock  soon 
began  to  dip,  and  at  length  as  they  progressed,  it  dis 
appeared  below  the  grade  of  the  tunnel,  and  they  dis 
covered  that  they  had  passed  through  the  limestone 
into  what  geology  calls  disintegrated  mica  and  talc 


92      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

schist;  but  what  history  with  a  truer  nomenclature, 
designates  as  porridge.  This  loose  rock,  readily  yield 
ing  to  the  action  of  water  and  dissolving  into  a  fluid 
of  about  the  consistency  of  gruel  was  a  most  formida 
ble  foe  to  the  .engineers.  From  before  its  face  they 
retreated,  resolving  to  make  an  open  cutting  instead 
of  a  tunnel  for  the  first  few  hundred  feet.  Accord 
ingly  they  ascended  to  the  surface,  sunk  a  shaft  just 
eastward  of  the  end  of  their  completed  tunnel,  and 
began  to  take  out  the  earth.  But  the  open  cutting  was 
a  job  of  some  magnitude.  When  they  had  made  an 
immense  hopper,  five  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  three 
hundred  feet  wide  and  seventy-five  feet  deep,  they  con 
cluded  to  try  tunneling  again.  As  fast  as  excavations 
were  made  into  this  demoralized  rock  it  was  necessary 
to  make  a  complete  casing  of  timber  to  support  the 
sides  and  roof  of  the  tunnel.  Within  this  casing  an 
arch  of  masonry  must  be  built.  There  was  no  solid 
foundation  on  which  to  rear  the  walls  and  roof  of  ma 
sonry;  and  it  was  therefore  necessary  to  lay  an  in 
verted  arch  of  brick  for  a  flooring.  The  top  of  the  tun 
nel  is  a  semicircle,  whose  radius  is  thirteen  feet ;  and 
the  sides  as  well  as  the  invert  are  arcs  of  a  circle  whose 
radius  is  twenty-six  feet.  The  invert  was  carried  in 
for  eight  hundred  and  eighty-three  feet  from  the  portal ; 
at  which  point  rock  was  found  of  sufficient  firmness  to 
sustain  the  walls  of  masonry.  It  will  be  seen  there 
fore  that  nearly  nine  hundred  feet  of  the  west  end  is  a 
complete  tube  of  brick,  averaging  about  eight  courses 
in  thickness. 


FIGHTING   THE   PORRIDGE.  93 

Most  of  this  difficult  work  at  the  west  end  was  done 
by  Mr.  B.  N.  Farren  under  a  contract  with  the  com 
missioners.  The  obstacles  have  at  some  times  been 
appalling.  So  treacherous  was  the  quicksand,  and  so 
great  the  flow  of  water  at  times,  that  whole  months* 
have  been  spent  in  the  most  energetic  labor  without 
making  an  inch  of  progress.  It  was  necessary  thor 
oughly  to  drain  the  porridge  by  side  and  cross  drifts 
in  every  direction  before  anything  could  be  done. 
For  this  purpose  about  twelve  hundred  feet  of  extra 
heading  was  made  outside  of  the  tunnel.  When  at 
last  they  pierced  the  thin  quartz  vein  which  separated 
the  porridge  from  the  mountain  rocks,  there  was  great 
joy  in  those  diggings.  Beyond  this  the  rock  was 
soft,  but  not  affected  by  the  action  of  water ;  and  the 
troubles  of  the  engineers  were  at  an  end. 

This  demoralized  rock,  which  has  given  so  much 
grief  to  the  friends  of  the  tunnel  has  given  equal  joy 
to  its  foes.  This  has  been  their  constant  argument  to 
prove  that  the  tunnel  was  a  blunder  and  a  failure  and 
a  swindle.  Driven  from  every  other  stronghold  they 
have  entrenched  themselves  in  this  porridge  with  des 
perate  resolution.  Marshalled  by  the  amiable  but  in 
domitable  Mr.  Bird  of  Walpole,  the  pamphleteers  have 
let  fly  at  this  soft  rock  a  broadside  of  paper  missiles. 
There  are  a  good  many  bird-tracks "  in  the  new  red 
sandstone  at  Gill ;  but  the  Bird  tracts  about  this  por 
ridge  are  much  more  numerous. 

While  part  of  the  miners  were  fighting  with  the  por 
ridge  at  the  west  end,  another  army  of  them  ascended 


94      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

the  mountain  side  to  a  point  on  the  line  of  the  tunnel 
about  half  a  mile  east  of  the  west  portal,  and  there 
sunk  a  shaft  in  the  solid  rock,  three  hundred  and 
eighteen  feet.  From  this  shaft  an  opening  has  now 
*been  made  to  the  west  end,  and  the  heading  has  been 
pushed  eastward  sixteen  hundred  feet, — making  a  con 
tinuous  lineal  excavation  of  four  thousand  fifty-six  feet 
from  the  west  portal  to  the  end  of  the  heading. 

The  cost  of  this  work  is  not  an  insignificant  item. 
Up  to  the  time  when  the  commissioners  took  posses 
sion  of  the  road  the  State  had  advanced  nearly  a  mil 
lion  of  dollars.  The  commissioners  have  expended 
$3,229,530.  The  Messrs.  Shanly  are  to  receive  for 
completing  the  work,  $4,594,268.  Add  to  these  sums 
the  amount  required  to  finish  the  road  from  the  tun 
nel  to  North  Adams,  and  the  total  cost  of  the  road 
and  the  tunnel  according  to  the  last  estimate  of  the 
commissioners  will  be  a  little  over  nine  millions  of 
dollars. 

If  anybody  wants  to  know  what  advantages  are  to 
be  derived  from  this  large  expenditure,  the  answers 
are  easy.  This  road  will  shorten  the  distance  from 
Boston  to  Troy  by  nine  miles ;  and  on  account  of  its 
easier  gradients,  will  be  a  much  better  road  for  freights 
than  the  Western.  It  will  thus  give  greatly  increased 
facilities  for  tracle  between  Boston  and  the  West,  and 
will  by  its  competition  reduce  the  enormous  prices  of 
transportation  over  the  Boston  and  Albany  Road.  At 
the  same  time  it  will  help  to  develop  the  resources  of 
the  country  through  which  it  passes,  and  will  open  to 


OTHER    TUNNELS.  95 

pleasure  as  well  as  to  business  a  most  attractive  and 
profitable  line  of  travel. 

The  longest  tunnel  now  in  use  is  the  Woodhead 
Tunnel  on  the  Manchester,  Sheffield  and  Lincolnshire 
Railroad, — a  short  distance  from  Manchester,  England. 
This  is  a  little  more  than  three  miles  long.  The 
Nerthe  Tunnel  in  France,  between  Marseilles  and 
Avignon  is  nearly  as  long.  The  great  tunnel  before 
referred  to,  now  constructing  under  the  Alps  at  Mount 
Cenis,  is  more  than  seven  miles  and  a  half  in  length. 
The  Hoosac  will  therefore,  when  it  is  constructed,  be 
the  longest  tunnel  in  the  world  with  the  exception  of 
the  one  at  Mount  Cenis. 

Now  if  the  ladies  will  array  themselves  in  their 
shortest  skirts,  their  oldest  hats,  their  water-proofs, 
and  their  over-shoes,  we  will  go  forth  and  see  what  we 
have  been  reading  about.  From  Rice's  to  the  tunnel 
the  road  runs  along  the  river  side,  part  of  the  way 
under  a  delightful  canopy  of  forest  trees,  and  part  of 
the  way  upon  a  precipitous  bank.  In  the  bend  of  the 
river  lies  the  immense  pile  of  rock  removed  from  the 
tunnel.  Passing  by  the  stores,  and  crossing  the  track 
that  issues  from  the  portal  we  follow  the  stream  up  to 
the  Deerfield  Dam,  a  structure  built  for  use,  and  an 
swering  its  purpose  well ;  but  like  all  the  best  works 
of  man,  as  beautiful  as  it  is  useful.  Retracing  our 
steps  we  descend  the  stream  to  the  machine-shops 
and  compressor  building,  in  which  \ve  watch  for  a 
few  moments  the  slow  but  miglity  movement  of  the 
enormous  air  pumps  which  supply  the  motive  power 


g6      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

to  the  drills  that  are  hammering  away  upon  the  face  of 
the  rock  more  than  a  mile  distant  in  the  heading  of 
the  tunnel.  Here  too  we  may  see  one  of  the  drilling- 
machines  brought  in  for  repairs.  It  is  the  invention 
of  Mr.  Charles  Burleigh  of  Fitchburg ;  and  it  consists 
of  a  cylinder  and  piston  operated  by  the  elastic  force 
of  compressed  air.  The  drill  is  fastened  to  the  piston, 
and  is  driven  into  the  rock  by  repeated  strokes  of  the 
piston. 

To  the  left  of  the  track  as  we  approach  the  portal 
we  can  see  the  hole  in  the  rock  made  by  the  big  borer 
some  years  ago.  A  little  tool-shop  occupies  the  niche. 
Perhaps  we  shall  have  time  before  we  go  in  to  ascend 
this  brook  which  flows  past  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel, 
for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  Cascade  of  the  Twins. 
Two  rivulets  that  unite  to  form  this  brook,  coming 
from  different  directions,  tumble  over  the  rocks  from  a 
height  of  fifty  or  sixty  feet  into  the  same  little  pool. 
It  is  a  good  place  to  spend  an  hour  or  two  upon  a  hot 
day. 

On  our  return  the  train  is  in  readiness.  "All 
aboard!"  shouts  the  conductor,  who  is  also  the  en 
gineer,  likewise  the  brakeman.  He  is  dressed  in  an 
over-coat  of  dirty  yellow  rubber  cloth ;  and  he  flour 
ishes  a  rawhide.  The  cars  upon  which  we  mount  are 
not  exactly  drawing-room  cars,  but  they  answer  tolera 
bly  well.  The  locomotive  is  a  good  sized  mule,  who 
lowers  his  long  ears,  bends  his  strong  back,  and 
makes  for  the  portal.  In  we  go !  The  blue  canopy 
over  head  gives  place  to  the  dripping  rock,  a  breeze 


HOOSAC  TUNNEL.— EASTERN  FOETAL. 


A    ROMANTIC    RIDE.  9/ 

coming  out  of  the  mountain  and  produced  by  the  air 
escaping  from  the  drills  at  the  distant  heading  greets 
us ;  and  we  soon  perceive  that  we  have  passed  out  of 
the  summer  heat  into  a  much  cooler  temperature. 
Perhaps,  too,  if  there  has  been  a  recent  blast  we 
shall  meet  odors  and  vapors  coming  forth  from  this 
darkness  which  will  remind  us  of  Tartarus,  rather 
than  of  the  Cave  of  the  winds.  By  and  by  an  un 
earthly  clangor  reaches  our  ears;  in  the  murky  dis 
tance  lurid  lights  and  goblin  shapes  are  seen  flitting 
and  stalking  about  ;  and  presently  we  are  in  the  very 
workshop  of  Vulcan  himself;  in  the  midst  of  noises 
dire  and  forms  uncouth,  and  faces  grimy  and  hideous. 
The  drilling-machines  are  fastened  to  a  massive  iron 
frame  which  is  pushed  up  against  the  face  of  the 
rocks ;  when  holes  enough  are  perforated,  the  frame  is 
pushed  back  ;  little  tin  cartridges  of  nitro-glycerine  to 
each  of  which  the  wires  of  a  galvanic  battery  is  attached, 
are  placed  in  the  holes;  the  workmen  retire  to  safe 
distances;  the  galvanic  circuit  is  completed,  and  a 
sound  like  all  the  noises  of  an  earthquake  and  ~a 
thunder-storm  rolled  into  one,  followed  by  a  tremen 
dous  rush  of  air  toward  the  portal,  announces  that  a 
few  more  'inches  of  the  Hoosac  Tunnel  are  completed. 

A  very  short  visit  to  this  interesting  spot  generally 
satisfies  nervous  people;  wherefore  we  will  speedily 
remount  our  conveyance  and  turn  our  faces  toward 
daylight. 

When  the  heats  of  noon  are  past,  and  the  sun  begins 
to  sink  behind  the  Hoosac  Mountain  we  will  prepare 
5 


98      FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

for  our  stage  ride  of  eight  miles  to  North  Adams. 
There  is  a  vulgar  prejudice  against  that  excellent  and 
time-honored  institution  called  the  stage-coach,  but 
this  prejudice  is  rarely  able  to  survive  the  journey 
over  the  Hoosac  Mountain.  Persons  who  have  made 
this  overland  trip  have  discovered  that  the  true  luxury 
and  glory  of  travel  are  only  to  be  found  in  the  stage 
coaches.  Fatigued  with  the  journey  in  the  cars  to  this 
point  they  have  alighted  from  the  stages  on  the  other 
side  refreshed  and  vigorous.  The  change  from  the 
cars  to  the  stages  is  always  restful.  The  grand  scen 
ery  and  the  bracing  air  of  the  mountain  are  full  of  de 
licious  intoxication.  If  mere  bodily  comfort  were 
sought  in  travel  the  stage  ride  could  not  well  be  omit 
ted  ;  but  they  who  seek  refreshment  for  their  minds 
will  readily  allow  that  these  eight  miles  over  the 
Hoosac  Mountain  are  worth  more  than  all  the  rest  of 
the  journey.  The  only  objection  to  the  tunnel  worthy 
of  a  moment's  consideration  is  that  it  will  deprive 
many  travelers  of  this  precious  interlude. 

Under  the  lengthening  shadows  our  train  of  elegant 
six-horse  coaches  begin  to  climb  the  mountain.  Barnes 
&  Co.  are  the  names  written  over  the  coach  doors. 
Barnes  is  the  popular  host  of  the  United  States  Hotel 
at  Boston,  and  "  Co."  includes  "  Jim  Stevens,"  one  of 
our  drivers,  who  with  "  Al  Richardson,"  another  of  the 
drivers,  manages  the  business  here.  "  Jim  "  was  once 
somebody's  baby,  but  that  must  have  been  some  time 
ago.  It  wouldn't  be  much  of  a  pastime  to  dandle  him 
now.  It  is  pleasant  to  know  that  his  skill  and  trust- 


A    WEIGHTY  JUDGMENT.  99 

worthiness  as  a  stage-driver  are  in  direct  proportion  to 
his  size.  He  might,  perhaps,  be  bigger  than  he  is  ; 
he  could  not  possibly  be  a  better  driver.  To  sit  by 
his  side  and  see  him  handle  the  reins  on  one  of  these 
mountain  trips,  deftly  turning  his  long  team  round  the 
sharp  angles  in  the  steep  road ;  quietly  making  every 
horse  do  his  part  on  the  heavy  up  hill  stretches,  and 
coolly  keeping  them  all  in  hand  in  the  crooked  descent, 
and  all  without  swearing  or  shouting  or  whipping,  is  to 
enjoy  one  of  the  triumphs  of  horsemanship.  "Jim" 
learned  his  trade  in  a  long  apprenticeship  among  the 
White  Hills,  and  he  is  fond  of  talking  about  that  re 
gion;  and  yet  he  maintains  that  the  scenery  of  this 
stage  ride  over  the  Hoosac  is  hardly  surpassed  in  that 
famous  resort  of  travelers.  It  ought  to  be  conceded 
that  the  opinions  of  men. like  "Jim"  and  "Al,"  whose 
avoirdupois  balances  are  respectively  three  hundred 
and  twenty  and  two  hundred  and  thirty  pounds,  are 
entitled  to  some  weight, 

Steady  climbing  now  for  forty  minutes.  The  road 
creeps  cautiously  up  the  mountain  side, — much  of  the 
way  through  the  forest,  but  often  revealing  the  rugged 
grandeur  of  the  hills.  Now  you  begin  to  get  some 
adequate  idea  of  the  depth  and  sinuosity  of  this  Deer- 
field  Gorge.  Half  a  mile  from  Rice's  is  Puck's  Nook, 
where  the  road  makes  a  sharp  turn  to  the  north,  cross 
ing  one  of  the  Twin  Rivulets,  which  here  comes  gurg 
ling  out  of  a  dense  thicket  above  the  road,  and  leaps 
merrily  down  a  steep  ravine  upon  our  right.  A  little 
farther  on,  we  emerge  from  the  woods,  and  climbing  a 


IOO     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

steep  pitch,  .look  down  into  the  valley  out  of  which  we 
have  ascended.  The  green  meadows,  the  orchards, 
the  river,  the  bridge,  the  shady  road  along  the  bank, 
the  neat  white  hostelry  of  Jenks  &  Rice,  and  the 
other  buildings  nested  in  this  snug  little  valley,  and 
around  them  all,  built  up  into  the  sky,  the  steep,  solid 
battlement  of  .hills!  It  would  not  do  to  call  this  val 
ley  a  basin ;  the  bottom  is  too  small,  and  the  sides  are 
too  high  and  steep ;  it  is  a  cup  rather, — the  drinking 
cup  of  a  Titan — embossed  as  the  seasons  pass  with 
green  and  gold  and  garnet  forests,  and  drained  of  all 
but  a  few  sparkling  drops  of  the  crystal  flood  with  which 
it  once  was  overbrimming. 

On  the  hill  across  the  river  the  line  of  the  tunnel  is 
marked  by  a  narrow  path  cut  through  the  forest  to  a 
signal  station  on  the  top.  A  white  object  upon  that 
hill-too  furnishes  a  perpetual  conundrum  to  travelers  : 
the  guesses  are  commonly  divided  between  a  white 
cow,  a  pale  horse  and  a  shanty.  It  may  give  relief 
to  some  minds  to  know  that  it  is  a  rock.  When  you 
are  exactly  in  the  range  of  that  line  on  the  opposite 
hill  you  are  exactly  over  the  tunnel;  and  you  will 
notice  similar  paths  cut  through  the  forests  both  above 
and  below  the  road.  "Jim"  says  that  one  lady  on 
being  told  that  the  stage  was  at  that  moment  passing 
over  the  tunnel,  ejaculated  with  a  little  scream,  "Oh! 
I  thought  it  sounded  hollow !" 

A  long  pull  and  a  strong  pull  of  Jim's  honest  blacks 
and  grays  brings  us  to  the  top  of  the  eastern  crest  of 
the  Hoosac  Mountain.  Now  look !  You  have  but  a 


GLO'RIA  IN  EXCELSIS  !  101 

few  moments, — make  the  most  of  them.  You  may 
travel  far  but  you  will  never  look  upon  a  fairer  scene 
than  that.  The  vision  reaches  away  for  miles  and 
miles  Over  the  tops  of  a  hundred  hills  grouped  in 
beautiful  disorder.  Fifty  miles  as  the  crow  flies  from 
the  spot  where  you  are  standing,  the  cone  of  old 
Monadnock  pierces  the  sky.  Further  south,  and  ten 
miles  farther  away,  the  top  of  Wachusett  is  seen  in  a 
clear  day  dimly  outlined  in  the  horizon.  Down  at 
your  feet  flows  the  deep  gorge  of  the  Deerfield  whose 
course  you  can  trace  for  many  miles.  Nothing  is  seen 
at  first  view  but  these  rugged  hills  and  the  deep  ra 
vines  that  divide  them — no  trace  or  token  of  meadow 
or  lowland ;  but  some  subtile  enchantment  presently 
attracts  the  eye  to  that  miniature  valley  out  of  which 
we  have  climbed,  bordered  on  one  side  by  the  Deer- 
field,  and  walled  in  on  all  the  other  sides  by  the  steepest 
hills.  This  little  valley  at  once  becomes  the  center 
of  the  picture ;  from  it  the  eye  makes  many  wide  ex 
cursions  over  the  hill-tops  but  it  hastens  back  again. 
It  is  like  a  ballad  in  the  middle  of  a  symphony ;  the 
symphony  is  grand,  but  the  ballad  keeps  singing  itself 
over  in  your  memory  at  every  pause.  And  yet  that  is 
a  very  tame  little  valley,  or  would  be  anywhere  else. 
Its  smooth,  green  fields  edged  by  the  river,  would 
never  attract  a  glance  in  any  level  country.  But,  shut 
in  here,  as  it  is  among  these  hills, — the  only  sign  of 
quiet  amid  all  these  tokens  of  universal  force, — it 
is  unspeakably  beautiful.  The  mountains,  too,  are 
grander  and  wilder  by  the  contrast  with  this  peaceful 


IO2     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

scene.  Every  artist,  whether  in  words  or  colors  ought 
to  look  upon  this  landscape.  It  would  teach  him  a 
useful  lesson. 

Over  the  crest  of  the  mountain,  westward,  swiftly 
down  into  the  valley  of  the  Cold  River,  which  divides 
the  eastern  from  the  western  summit.  The  stunted 
beeches  on  the  left,  barren  of  branches  on  the  north 
west  side,  show  how  fierce  the  winter  winds  are,  and 
from  what  quarter  they  come.  This  summit  is  two 
thousand  one  hundred  and  ten  feet  above  tide  water, 
and  the  western  summit  is  four  hundred  feet  higher. 
Over  the  top  of  the  hill  in  the  west  we  catch  our  first 
glimpse  of  Greylock. 

Beyond  the  lowest  part  of  the  valley,  on  the  slope 
of  the  western  crest,  the  new  buildings  over  the  Central 
Shaft  of  the  tunnel  are  seen.  At  this  place,  on  the 
i9th  of  October,  1867,  a  horrible  casualty  took  place. 
Thirteen  men  were  at  work  at  the  bottom  of  the 
shaft,  five  hundred  and  eighty-three  feet  from  the 
surface,  when  the  accidental  explosion  of  a  tank  of 
gasoline  which  had  been  used  in  lighting  the  shaft 
suddenly  set  the  buildings  over  the  shaft  into  a  blaze. 
The  engineer  was  driven  from  his  post,  the  hoisting 
apparatus  was  disabled  and  inaccessible,  and  the  terri 
ble  certainty  was  at  once  forced  upon  the  minds  of  all 
who  looked  on,  that  the  men  at  the  bottom  of  the 
shaft  were  doomed.  How  soon  or  in  what  manner 
the  men  were  themselves  made  aware  of  their  awful 
condition  or  in  what  way  they  met  their  fate  no  one 
will  ever  know.  Some  doubtless  were  killed  by  the 


CENTRAL  SHAFT.-MALLOKY'S  PERILOUS  DESCENT. 


A   BRAVE    DEED.  I 03 

falling  timbers  of  the  building ;  and  by  a  terrible  hail  of 
steel  drills  precipitated  into  the  shaft  when  the  plat 
form  gave  way;  others,  perhaps,  were  suffocated  by 
the  bad  air,  and  others  possibly  were  drowned  by  the 
rising  water,  after  the  pumps  stopped  working.  The 
next  morning,  as  soon  as  the  smoking  ruins  could  be 
cleared  away,  a  brave  miner  named  Mallory  was 
lowered  by  a  rope  around  his  body  to  the  bottom  of 
the  shaft,  and  found  there  ten  or  fifteen  feet  of  water 
on  the  top  of  which  were  floating  blackened  timbers 
and  debris  from  the  ruins,  but  saw  no  traces  of  the 
men.  It  was  impossible  even  to  rescue  their  bodies. 
The  water  was  rapidly  filling  up  the  shaft,  and  new 
buildings  must  be  erected  and  proper  machinery  pro 
cured  before  it  could  be  removed.  It  was  not  till 
the  last  days  of  October,  1868,  a  full  year  after  the 
accident,  that  the  bottom  of  the  shaft  was  reached 
and  the  bodies  were  secured. 

On  this  bleak,  rough  mountain  top,  lies  all  that  is 
inhabitable  of  the  town  of  Florida.  There  are  a  few 
good  grazing  farms,  but  grain  has  a  slim  chance  be 
tween  the  late  and  early  frosts.  The  winters  are  long 
and  fierce.  During  the1  Revolutionary  War  a  body  of 
troops  attempted  to  make  the  passage  of  this  moun 
tain  in  midwinter,  and  nearly  perished  with  cold  and 
hunger.  Jim  can  tell  you  some  large  stories,  if  he 
chooses,  about  the  storms  and  drifts  of  last  winter. 
Passing  on  the  left  a  dilapidated  old  tavern,  where 
none  but  a  stranger  will  be  likely  to  get  taken  in,  and 
on  the  right,  as  we  ascend  the  western  crest,  a  smooth 
5* 


IO4     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

surface  of  rock  with  furrows  chiseled  in  it  by  primitive 
icebergs,  there  suddenly  bursts  upon  us  a  scene  whose 
splendor  makes  abundant  compensation  for  the  dreari 
ness  of  the  last  three  miles. 

In  the  center  of  the  picture  rises  Greylock,  King  of 
Mountains ;  about  him  are  the  group  of  lesser  peaks 
that  make  his  court.  On  the  north,  Mount  Adams,  a 
spur  of  the  Green  Mountain  range,  closes  the  scene. 
Between  this  and  the  Greylock  group  the  beautiful 
curves  of  the  Taghkanic  range  fill  the  western  horizon. 
From  the  north  flows  down,  through  the  valley  that 
separates  the  mountain  on  which  we  stand  from  Mount 
Adams,  the  north  branch  of  the  Hoosac  river;  from 
the  south,  through  the  village  of  South  Adams  and  the 
valley  that  lies  between  us  and  Greylock,  comes  the 
other  branch  of  the  river;  right  at  our  feet  and  fifteen 
hundred  feet  below  us  lies  the  village  of  North  Adams, 
packed  in  among  its  ravines  and  climbing  the  slopes 
on  every  side ;  and  here  the  two  branches  of  the  Hoosac 
unite  and  flow  on  westward  through  the  other  valley 
that  divides  Greylock  from  Mount  Adams.  Williams- 
town  lies  at  the  foot  of  the  Taconic  Hills,  just  behind 
the  spur  of  Mount  Adams.  The  straight  line  of  the 
Pittsfield  and  North  Adams  Railroad  cuts  the  southern 
valley  in  twain ;  the  Troy  and  Boston  railroad  bisects 
the  western  valley ;  and  the  twin  spires  of  little  Stam 
ford  in  Vermont  brighten  the  valley  on  the  north. 
These  three  deep  valleys,  with  the  village  at  their 
point  of  confluence,  and  the  lordly  mountain  walls 
that  shut  them  in,  give  us  a  picture  whose  beauty  will 


PROSPECT    ROCK.  IO5 

not  be  eclipsed  by  any  scene  that  New  England  can 
show  us.  If  it  should  fall  to  your  lot,  good  reader,  as 
it  fell  to  the  lot  of  one  (whether  in  the  body  or  out  of 
the  body  I  cannot  tell)  to  stand  upon  the  rock  that 
overhangs  the  road  by  which  we  are  descending, 
while  the  sun,  hiding  behind  amber  clouds  in  the  west, 
touches  the  western  slopes  of  the  old  mountain  there 
in  the  center  with  the  most  delicate  pink  and  purple 
hues, — while  the  shadows  gather  in  the  hollows  of  its 
eastern  side, — and  the  sweet  breath  of  a  summer  even 
ing  steals  over  the  green  meadows  where  the  little  river 
winds  among  its  alder  bushes, — if  this  should  be  your 
felicity,  you  will  say,  and  reverently  too :  "  It  is  good 
to  be  here ;  let  us  make  tabernacles  and  abide ;  for 
surely  there  shall  never  rest  upon  our  souls  a  purer 
benediction!" 

People  often  debate  whether  this  view  from  the 
western  crest  be  not  finer  than  that  from  the  eastern ; 
but  with  many  the  preference  always  rests  with  that 
which  they  have  looked  on  last. 

Down  the  steep  zigzags  we  go  steadily,  round  the 
hills  and  through  the  gorges  we  wind  merrily,  past 
the  mills  and  tenements  of  the  upper  village  we  clatter 
briskly,  and  soon  the  stages  halt  before  the  imposing 
front  of  the  Wilson  House;  in  which,  unless  we  pre 
fer  the  less  spacious  but  comfortable  Berkshire  House 
across  the  way,  we  shall  find  quarters,  if  we  are  wise, 
for  more  than  one  night. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


UNDER  THE  SHADOW  OF  GREYLOCK. 


NO  one  can  say  of  this  town  of  Adams,  what  the 
member  from  Essex  spitefully  said  of  one  of  the 
towns  through  which  we  have  passed, — that  it  is  like 
a  growing  potato — the  best  part  of  it  under  ground. 
Adams  has  not  buried  many  of  its  heroes, — partly  be 
cause  it  has  not  had  many  to  bury,  and  partly  because 
it  is  a  theory  widely  accepted  in  the  town 'that  the  worst 
use  to  which  talent  can  be  put  is  to  bury  it.  The  town 
was  born  amid  the  throes  of  the  Revolution ;  being  in 
corporated  in  1776,  and  taking  its  name  from  the  fa 
mous  Sam  Adams.  The  first  settlers  were  from  Con 
necticut;  most  of  these  died  or  removed,  and  their 
lands  fell  into  the  possession  of  emigrants  from  Rhode 
Island,  many  of  whom  were  Quakers.  The  southern 
part  of  the  town  is  now  largely  populated  by  the  de 
scendants  of  this  peaceful  sect;  one  at  least  of  whom 
has  made  herself  a  national  reputation.  The  clear- 
minded,  large-minded,  and  by  no  means  weak-minded 
Susan  B.  Anthony  was  born  under  the  shadow  of  Grey- 


A   STIRRING  TOWN.  IO/ 

lock.  Some  of  the  first  families  of  Adams  can  trace 
the  lines  of  their  ancestry  up  to  the  Pilgrims  who  came 
over  with  Bradford  and  Standish  in  the  Mayflower; 
the  rest  are  all  descendants  of  the  original  passengers, 
who  came  over  with  Noah  in  the  ark.  The  ordinary 
sort  of  aristocracy  does  not,  therefore,  prevail  in  Ad 
ams  to  any  alarming  extent.  There  is  wealth  here, — 
but  all  of  it  has  been  earned ;  none  of  it  was  inherited. 
All  the  leading  business  men  began  life  with  no  stock 
in  trade  but  brains  and  courage.  Out  of  this  capital 
they  have  created  fortunes  for  themselves,  and  have 
built  up  a  flourishing  town.  The  population  of  the 
town  has  increased  with  great  rapidity  during  the  last 
few  years,  and  the  appreciation  of  property  and  the 
increase  of  business  have  kept  even  pace  with  the 
growth  of  population.  The  value  of  goods  manufac 
tured  in  1868,  which  was  a  dull  year  for  business,  is 
shown  by  the  books  of  the  Internal  Revenue  Depart 
ment  to  be  above  seven  millions  of  dollars.  That  is 
not  an  exaggerated  statement  at  any  rate.  The  town 
contains  two  calico  printing  establishments,  twelve 
cotton  mills,  eight  woolen  mills,  four  shoe  factories, 
one  tannery,  two  carriage  manufactories,  three  paper 
mills,  two  flouring  mills,  two  sash  and  blind  factories, 
and  two  machine  shops.  In  these  not  less  than  thirty- 
five  hundred  operatives  and  mechanics  find  employ 
ment,  and  the  wages  paid  by  manufacturers  to  their 
employes  amount  to  more  than  a  million  and  a  quarter 
of  dollars. 

These  statistics  include  both  the  north  and  the  south 


IO8     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

villages  of  Adams  \  North  Adams  having  rather  more 
than  two-thirds  of  the  population  and  the  business. 

It  does  not  take  the  traveler  long  to  discover  that 
North  Adams  is  a  village  of  great  vigor  and  enterprise. 
Capital  is  not  suffered  to  lie  idle  in  the  vaults  of  banks; 
it  is  constantly  in  motion.  It  is  a  thoroughly  demo 
cratic  town.  The  factitious  class  distinctions  so  com-' 
monly  observed  in  the  society  of  our  larger  villages 
are  not  very  obvious  here.  There  is  a  more  thorough 
fusion  of  the  various  social  orders  than  is  usually  found. 
At  a  reception  in  the  spacious  parlors  of  one  of  the 
wealthy  citizens  you  will  meet  people  of  widely  differ 
ent  stations  and  conditions,  all  on  a  footing  of  social 
equality.  The  morality  of  the  town  is  considerably 
above  the  average  of  villages  of  its  class.  Manufac 
turing  communities  as  large  as  this  are  always  far  from 
perfect ;  but  in  a  town  that  votes  as  this  one  did  last 
year,  in  a  hotly  contested  struggle,  three  to  one  against 
the  licensing  of  open  bars  for  the  sale  of  liquor,  drunk 
enness  cannot  be  a  very  general  vice ;  and  it  is  fair  to 
estimate  the  morality  of  the  town  in  other  respects  by 
its  vote  on  this  question.  It  is  quite  common,  in  cer 
tain  quarters,  for  various  reasons,  to  disparage  the 
town  of  Adams,  but  readers  of  this  little  book  will  dis 
cover  after  stopping  a  week  at  the  Wilson  House  that 
there  are  many  worse  places. 

A  few  elegant  houses  recently  erected,  three  new 
churches,  and  a  magnificent  new  school-house  on 
the  hill,  in  the  centre  of  the  village,  which  cost  eighty 
thousand  dollars,  show  that  the  attention  of  the  people 


THE    STORY    OF    AN    INVENTOR. 

is  being  turned  to  architectural  improvements.  The 
Wilson  House  is  quite  a  phenomenon  in  a  village  of 
this  size,  and  visitors  may  be  interested  to  know  who 
built  it,  and  how  it  happened  to  be  built. 

This  hotel  is  the  property  of  Mr.  Allen  B.  Wilson, 
the  inventor  of  the  Wheeler  and  Wilson  Sewing  Ma 
chine,  now  a  resident  of  Waterbury,  Conn.  The  story 
of  his  life,  though  wanting  in  tragic  situations  and  re 
markable  feats,  is  worth  reading.  It  is  the  same  old 
story  of  struggle  and  want  and  ultimate  triumph  which 
has  been  told  of  so  many  American  inventors. 

Wilson  was  born  in  the  town  of  Willett,  Cortland 
County,  N.  Y.  His  father  died  in  his  early  childhood, 
and  at  the  age  of  fifteen  he  was  bound  out  to  a  relative 
to  learn  the  triple  trade  of  carpenter,  joiner  and  cabinet 
maker.  This  trade  was  supposed  by  his  employer  to 
include  such  work  as  mowing  Canada  thistles,  milking 
cows  and  making  maple  sugar,  at  which  Wilson  was 
kept  the  greater  part  of  the  time.  Not  fancying  these 
branches  of  the  business,  the  apprentice  ran  away 
after  two  years  to  a  safe  place  among  the  Catskill 
Mountains,  where  he  hired  out  as  a  cabinet-maker. 
In  1847  he  started  westward  as  a  tramping  journey 
man,  in  search  of  a  fortune,  working  at  cabinet-making 
and  carving  in  Cleveland,  Chicago  and  several  other 
Western  towns.  At  Burlington  he  was  attacked  and 
prostrated  by  the  fever  and  ague,  a  disease  that  fol 
lowed  him  for  seven  years,  and  nearly  wrecked  him. 
Slowly  and  sadly  he  made  his  way  back  to  his  country 
home  in  Cortland  County,  where  he  passed  a  miser- 


IIO     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

able  winter,  very  poor  in  purse,  and  nearly  broken  in 
spirit.  In  the  spring  of  '48  he  started,  with  very  little 
money  in  his  pocket,  to  work  his  passage  to  New  York, 
designing  thence  to  go  to  sea  in  the  hope  of  mending 
his  health.  His  first  halt  was  at  Homer,  where  he 
hired  himself  out  as  a  machinist ;  and  although  it  was 
a  trade  which  he  had  never  tried  before,  the  discovery 
was  not  made  in  the  shop  that  he  was  a  raw  hand.  At 
Homer  he  remained,  working  for  seventy-five  cents  a 
day,  till  he  had  earned  enough  to  carry  him  to  New 
York,  making  the  journey  by  canal  and  steamboat. 
There  he  found  a  sloop  in  the  coasting  trade,  upon 
which  he  shipped  to  work  for  his  board,  and  paid  his 
last  quarter  of  a  dollar  to  have  his  tool  chest  carried 
across  the  city.  He  remained  on  board  this  sloop 
nearly  all  summer,  and  in  the  autumn,  being  somewhat 
improved  in  health,  found  his  way  to  Boston,  where  he 
engaged  for  a  time  in  joiner  work.  But  though  he  was 
a  cunning  workman  in  wood,  an  idea  was  brewing  in 
his  mind  which  must  find  articulation  in  iron,  and  he 
was  eager  to  get  into  a  machine  shop.  Finding  a 
place  in  the  locomotive  works  of  Hinckley  &  Drury, 
he  started  across  the  city  with  his  tool  chest — all  his 
wealth — when  he  was  suddenly  attacked  with  home 
sickness.  The  crooked  streets  of  Boston  looked  un 
speakably  hateful  to  him ;  he  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  tarrying  there  another  day ;  and  as  he  drew  near  the 
Western  Railroad  depot,  he  told  the  expressman  with 
whom  he  was  riding  to  stop  and  unload  his  chest  on 
that  platform.  The  first  train  carried  him  as  far  west 


EUREKA !  Ill 

as  Pittsfield,  and  that  was  about  as  far  as  his  money 
would  go.  Here  he  engaged  in  cabinet-making  and 
carving,  stipulating  for  his  evenings ;  for  the  idea  which 
had  been  buzzing  in  his  brain  ever  since  that  winter  of 
1847-8  must  be  caught  and  caged.  Wilson  says  that 
the  machine  was  invented  during  that  enforced  idle 
ness  in  his  own  home  in  Cortland  County,  and  that 
ill-health  alone  delayed  its  construction.  Here,  at 
Pittsfield,  in  the  leisure  of  his  evenings,  he  built  the 
first  machine.  The  dream  was  a  reality.  The  reality 
was  better  than  the  dream.  '  From  the  start  the  machine 
worked  beautifully.  It  could  be  improved-,  but,  just  as 
it  was,  it  was  a  triumph  of  mechanical  genius.  Parts 
of  the  first  machine  were  made  of  wood,  and  Wilson 
wished  to  make  it  all  of  iron.  The  facilities  for  doing 
machinists'  work  were  not  good  in  Pittsfield;  so  he 
carried  with  him  to  North  Adams  the  iron  parts  (which 
still  remain  in  his  possession),  and  hiring  out  again  as 
a  cabinet  maker,  employed  his  leisure  in  perfecting  his 
invention.  Mr.  J.  N.  Chapin,  of  North  Adams,  entered 
into  partnership  with  him  in  the  construction  of  the 
machine,  and  several  were  built.  Meantime  trouble 
was  brewing.  Elias  Howe,  Jr.,  and  Isaac  M.  Singer 
had  produced  sewing  machines,  for  which  they  were 
endeavoring  to  obtain  patents,  and  each  claimed  pri 
ority  of  invention  over  the  other,  and  over  Wilson. 
Lawsuits  were  threatened,  and  Mr.  Chapin,  an  excel 
lent  but  cautious  man,  whose  honesty  and  friendship 
Wilson  never  doubted,  sold  out  his  interest  in  the 
patent,  and  withdrew.  While  Wilson  was  in  New  York, 


112    FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

waiting  for  the  issue  of  the  patent,  he  invented  the 
rotary  hook,  one  of  the  most  exquisite  mechanical 
contrivances  ever  produced,  and  otherwise  essentially 
modified  his  machine.  Falling  in  with  Mr.  Nathaniel 
Wheeler,  Mr.  Wilson  entered  into  partnership  with 
him,  and  the  improved  machine  took  the  name  of  the 
firm  of  Wheeler  and  Wilson. 

There  has  been  considerable  controversy  both  in 
the  courts  and  in  the  public  prints  about  priority  of 
invention,  and  the  honor  has  commonly  been  conferred 
with  some  flourish  of  trumpets  upon  Mr.  Elias  Howe, 
Jr.,  but  these  two  things  are  certainly  true : 

1.  Mr.  Wilson  invented  a  sewing  machine,  without 
help  or  suggestion  from  Mr.  Howe  or  anybody  else, 
and  without  ever   having  seen  or  heard  of  a  sewing 
machine.     The  idea  was  purely  original  with  him. 

2.  The  Wheeler  and  Wilson  Machine  was  a  practical 
success  from  the  beginning,  distancing  the  Howe  from 
the  start  in  the  markets  of  the  world.     It  was  the  first 
practical  sewing  machine  ever  made. 

When  Mr.  Wilson  left  North  Adams  for  New  York 
with  his  model  in  his  valise  to  secure  his  patent,  in  the 
spring  of  1850,  it  is  not  likely  that  he,  or  any  of  those 
who  knew  him,  expected  that  he  would  return,  in  the 
summer  of  1865,  with  the  Wilson  House  in  his  pocket. 
This  massive  pile  of  brick  and  iron  is  only  a  small 
part  of  the  earnings  of  that  cunning  little  work 
man  whose  low  song  has  cheered  so  many  tired 
women.  With  a  kindly  feeling  toward  the  town  where 
the  sun  first  began  to  shine  upon  him,  and  where  the 


WILSON  HOUSE,  NORTH  ADAMS. 


THE    WILSON    HOUSE    AND    ITS    KEEPERS.     113 

best  of  fortunes  came  to  him  in  the  excellent  wife  who 
has  been  to  him  a  help-meet  indeed  in  his  subsequent 
career,  Mr.  Wilson  resolved  to  devote  a  portion  of  his 
gains  to  the  erection  of  this  Hotel. 

The  Wilson  House  is,  as  you  have  already  discov 
ered,  a  first-class  hotel.  Eight  large  stores,  a  fine 
Public  Hall,  a  Masonic  Hall,  a  Manufacturers'  Club 
Room,  and  a  Billiard  Room  are  included  within  its 
walls;  and  besides  its  spacious  offices,  its  ample 
dining-rooms,  its  large  and  well  appointed  kitchens, 
pantries,  store-rooms,  its  excellent  baths,  and  its  ele 
gant  parlors,  it  offers  to  guests  a  hundred  airy  and 
well-furnished  chambers.  The  Post  Office  and  the 
Telegraph  Office  are  in  the  house;  the  two  railroad 
stations  are  within  three  minutes  walk ;  and  the  stages 
of  the  tunnel  line  leave  its  doors.  Over  it  preside  two 
genial  and  attentive  landlords,  of  both  of  whom,  if  it 
were  not  too  much  like  boasting  of  its  friends,  this 
little  book  could  say  a  thousand  things  in  praise. 
However,  "good  wine  needs  no  bush,"  and  a  hotel  as 
good  as  this  needs  no  strenuous  puffing. 

WALKS. 

After  a  bath  and  a  breakfast,  a  walk  to  the  Natural 
Bridge  will  be  in  order.  Up  Main  street  to  Eagle 
street,  then  northward  past  the  Eagle  Mill  and  up  the 
hill,  turning  first  to  the  eastward,  then  to  the  north 
ward,  then,  when  the  top  of  the  hill  is  reached,  into  a 
cross-road  running  eastward.  The  view  from  this  hill 
top  is  magnificent.  The  village,  Greylock,  the  South 


I  14     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

Adams  valley,  and  the  Williamstown  valley,  are  all  in 
full  view.  The  objects  are  the  same  that  you  saw  from 
the  top  of  the  Hoosac  Mountain,  but  you  have  given 
the  kaleidoscope  a  turn  and  the  new  combination  adds 
a  new  glory.  There  is  hardly  a  better  view  of  the 
Greylock  group  then  you  get  at  this  point.  Between 
the  main  ridge  of  the  mountain  and  the  southern  val 
ley  there  is  a  lower  ridge ;  the  deep  gulf  that  separates 
the  higher  mountain  from  the  lower  one  is  called  the 
Notch ;  and  the  upper  end  of  the  Notch  is  the  Bellows 
Pipe.  Greylock  proper,  is  the  highest  peak,  just  west 
of  the  Bellows  Pipe.  Mount  Williams  is  the  northern 
end  of  this  high  ridge,  which  overlooks  the  village; 
Mount  Fitch  is  the  elevation  of  the  ridge,  midway  be 
tween  Greylock  and  Williams;  and  the  western  peak 
of  the  mountain,  overlooking  Williamstown,  is  Mount 
Prospect. 

The  cross-road  that  we  follow  eastward  from  the  top 
of  the  hill  leads  us  down  into  the  ravine  through  which 
flows  Hudson's  Brook.  Under  the  little  wooden  bridge 
the  water  roars  and  rushes  down  the  narrow  channel  it 
has  chiseled  for  itself  in  the  limestone ;  below  the  road 
is  a  chasm  about  fifteen  feet  wide,  from  thirty  to  sixty 
feet  deep  and  thirty  rods  long,  spanned  by  an  arch  of 
solid  rock.  Before  the  days  of  the  white  men,  the 
water  ran  over  this  rock,  and  descended  in  a  cascade 
into  the  gorge  below ;  but  finding  some  small  opening 
under  the  rock  which  is  now  the  Natural  Bridge,  it  has 
gradually  worn  this  channel  to  its  present  depth.  In 
the  soft  limestone  the  swift  water  has  done  much  beau- 


THE  CASCADE  IN  THE  NOTCH  BROOK.   11$ 

tiful  and  curious  carving.  Just  below  the  arch  a  well- 
worn  foot-path  will  conduct  you  to  a  rocky  prominence 
where  you  get  an  excellent  view  of  the  bridge  and  the 
chasm. 

You  can  return  by  the  road  that  follows  the  brook 
down  to  the  lower  Clarksburg  road,  and  that  will  lead 
you  past  the  Beaver  and  the  Glen  Mills,  through  Union 
street,  back  to  your  starting-point.  The  Natural  Bridge 
is  not  more  than  a  mile  from  the  hotel,  and  is  easily 
reached  by  carriages. 

The  Cascade  in  the  Notch  Brook  is  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  hotel  j  and  those  who  dare  not  venture  upon 
so  long  a  walk  can  ride  up  the  Williamstown  road,  past 
the  cemetery  to  the  little  drab  factory  village  of  Bray- 
tonville  with  its  large  brick  mill,  where  a  road  running 
south  past  a  long  red  school-house  leads  up  to  a  saw 
mill.  Here  alighting  and  fastening  your  steeds  you 
have  less  than  half  a  mile  to  walk.  The  path  follows 
the  Notch  Brook  through  the  fields  up  into  a  rough 
and  romantic  glen,  along  the  sides  of  which  a  foot-path 
leads  you  till  you  are  stopped  by  the  precipice  down 
which  the  water  is  plunging.  The  perpendicular  de 
scent  of  the  water  is  less  than  thirty  feet,  but  the  walls 
of  the  chasm  rise  much  higher.  From  the  very  brink 
of  the  precipice  on  either,  side  spring  stately  forest 
trees  that  lock  their  branches  across  the  abyss,  and 
almost  hide  the  sky.  The  jagged  walls  of  rock  are 
covered  with  beautiful  growths  of  ferns  and  mosses 
and  lichens.  Climb  to  the  top  of  the  western  cliff, 
and  follow  the  foot-paths  that  will  lead  you  to  all  the 


Il6    (FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

best  points  of  view;  then  lie  down  in  silence  upon 
some  mossy  bank  in  sight  of  the  tumbling  waters  and 
yield  yourself  to  the  spell  which  the  wild  grandeur  of 
the  scene  will  work  upon  you. 

Those  who  have  left  no  steeds  behind  them  will  do 
well  to  follow  the  foot-path  up  the  western  bank  of  the 
ravine,  through  the  woods  into  the  pastures,  where  they 
will  have  a  near  view  of  the  narrow  trough  between 
the  mountains  known  as  the  Notch.  Here  they  may 
cross  the  brook  and  follow  the  wood  road  on  the  eastern 
side,  that  will  lead  them  through  the  woods  and  pas 
tures,  over  the  hill  and  down  into  the  village.  It  is 
the  road  that  passes  the  marble  quarries,  in  full  view 
from  the  village.  The  village  is  supplied  with  water 
from  the  Notch  Brook.  The  dam  is  half  a  mile  above 
the  cascade,  and  the  road  by  which  we  return  passes 
the  main  reservoir  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  the  distrib 
uting  reservoir  upon  the  eastern  slope.  The  lower  res 
ervoir  is  high  enough  to  give  the  water  tremendous 
force  in  the  village,  furnishing  a  valuable  safeguard 
against  fire.  A  hose  attached  to  a  hydrant  will  throw 
a  stream  through  a  nozzle  an  inch  and  a  half  in  diam 
eter  to  the  height  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet. 
Two  or  three  of  these  streams  will  drown  the  fiercest 
fire  in  a  twinkling ;  witness  the  numerous  blackened 
frames  about  the  village  too  well  saved.  Not  only  to 
these  lower  uses  does  this  water  minister.  It  feeds 
the  little  fountains  that  sparkle  with  what  Mr.  Poe 
would  call  "  a  crystalline  delight"  along  the  public 
ways  in  the  village. 


CASCADE  IN  THE  NOTCH  BROOK,  NORTH  ADAMS. 


SHORTER   WALKS.  I  I/ 

As  you  descend  the  hill  by  this  road,  the  view  is 
charming.  The  town  shows  here  to  good  advantage; 
the  Hoosac  Range  is  grandly  outlined  on  the  west 
ern  horizon,  and  the  meadows  above  the  village, 
through  which  the  winding  path  of  the  little  river  is 
marked  by  the  willows,  are  always  delightfully  fresh 
and  green. 

Colegrove's  Hill  is  north  of  the  village.  At  the 
head  of  Eagle  street  two  roads  diverge,  both  run 
ning  north.  Take  the  right  hand  road,  and  at  the 
end  of  it  follow  the  path  through  a  pasture,  in 
which  a  clump  of  tall  pines  is  standing,  to  the  top 
of  a  round  hill.  The  view  is  the  same  that  you  had 
on  the  walk  to  the  Natural  Bridge,  but  wider  and 
more  complete. 

Mount  Adams  invites  the  pedestrian  to  climb  its 
easy  slope  by  various  paths  in  view  from  the  village ; 
and  promises  him  an  abundant  reward  for  his  toil. 

Church  If  ill  is  at  the  upper  end  of  Main,  street.  It 
is  quickly  reached,  and  the  views  which  it  affords  of 
the  gorge  through  which  the  north  branch  flows,  and 
of  the  South  Adams  valley,  are  both  excellent. 

In  short,  it  may  be  said  that  while  the  streets  of 
the  village  offer  few  stylish  promenades,  all  men  and 
women  who  have  stout  shoes,  short  skirts  and  a  love 
of  the  beautiful  may  find,  by  climbing  any  hill  road  or 
mountain  path  in  the  region,  a  prospect  that  will  de 
light  the  eye,  an  appetite  that  will  make  the  plainest 
food  delicious,  and  that  unfretted  bodily  fatigue  which 
brings  sweet  and  refreshing  sleep. 


Il8  FROM    THE    HUB    TO   THE    HUDSON. 

DRIVES. 

Now,  good  traveler,  we  can  offer  you  an  entertain 
ment  whose  variety  is  almost  unbounded  and  whose 
delight  is  perpetual.  Perhaps  you  have  heard  other 
New  England  villages  boast  of  the  drives  in  their 
neighborhood.  Each  several  town  in  this  Common 
wealth,  if  we  may  take  the  testimony  of  its  inhabi 
tants,  is  approached  on  every  side  by  country  roads  of 
the  most  remarkable  beauty ;  affording  splendid  views, 
and  leading  through  delightful  places.  Just  as  all 
parents  believe  their  children  to  be  the  brightest  and 
best  of  the  race,  so  all  New  England  villagers  regard 
the  drives  about  their  several  villages  as  the  most 
beautiful  in  the  world.  Eyes  that  are  anointed  with 
love  can  see  beauty  in  the  face  of  the  homeliest  child, 
and  discern  untold  dignity  and  worth  in  the  dullest 
human  soul ;  and  there  is  some  excellent  oil  by  which 
the  eyes  of  men  in  every  place  are  touched  to  an  ap 
preciation  of  the  natural  beauty  that  surrounds  them. 
The  added  testimony  of  the  villagers  is  a  tribute  to 
the  glory  of  the  creation.  All  these  scenes  are 
beautiful.  Skies,  forests,  green  meadows,  fields  of 
grain,  hills  and  valleys,  brooks  and  lakes  and  rivers 
are  always  beautiful;  and  they  furnish  to  those  who 
dwell  among  them,  an  enjoyment  of  which  they  never 
grow  weary. 

As  for  the  children,  however,  you  and  I,  my  dear 
madam,  are  not  surprised  that  Stubbs  and  his  wife 
should  think  for  themselves  that  their  baby  is  beautiful, 


BABIES    AND    THE    BERKSHIRE    HILLS.        I IQ 

but  surely  they  cannot  expect  us  to  think  so.  It  is 
natural  for  every  pare»t  to  admire  his  own  children ; 
but  it  would  be  absurd  for  some  parents  to  expect 
other  folks  to  admire  their  children.  However,  there 
are  some  children,  ours  for  instance,  whom  everybody 
must  admire.  No  one  can  help  acknowledging  that 
they  are  the  handsomest  and  mo'st  intelligent  children 
anywhere  to  be  found.  That  is  too  obvious  to  be  ar 
gued  about.  And  in  like  manner,  those  of  us  who  live 
in  North  Adams,  do  not  wonder  that  the  average  New 
England  villager  admires,  in  a  general  way,  the  scenery 
of  his  neighborhood.  It  is  quite  commendable  in  him 
to  do  so.  And  yet,  it  would  be  absurd  in  him  to  insist 
that  we  should  go  into  ecstacies  over  his  frog-ponds  and 
sheep-pastures.  But  our  drives,  of  course,  are  quite 
incomparable.  Everybody  will  say  that  there  is  noth 
ing  like  them  in  Massachusetts.  Which,  my  dear 
madam,  there  .is  not.  You  have  heard  of  the  Berk 
shire  Hills.  These  upon  which  you  have  been  looking 
in  your  walks,  and  to  which  we  shall  further  introduce 
you  in  your  drives  are  the  Berkshire  Hills.  And'  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  until  you  came  to  North  Adams  you 
had  never  seen  any  Berkshire  Hills  worth  mentioning, 
unless,  indeed,  you  had  visited  Mount  Washington,  in 
the  south-eastern  corner  of  the  county.  People  some 
times  go  to  Lenox  or  Stockbridge  or  Pittsfield,  and 
imagine  that  they  have  visited  the  hills  of  Berkshire. 
Now  these  are  all  very  respectable  towns,  and  quite 
worth  going  to  see ;  but  the  supposition  that  one  finds 
the  Berkshire  Hills  within  their  borders  is  a  very  good 


I2O    FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

joke  indeed.  One  who  has  never  seen  the  Deerfield 
Gorge  or  the  Adams  Valley  from  Hoosac  Mountain  ; 
who  has  never  climbed  to  the  top  of  Prospect,  or  Bald 
Mountain,  or, Mount  Hopkins, jDr  Greylock;  who  has 
never  invaded  the  awful  stillness  of  that  sacred  place 
which  is  known  by  the  profane  name  of  the  Hopper, — 
such  a  person  should  talk  modestly  of  Berkshire 
scenery.  He  may  have  seen  elsewhere  in  Berkshire, 
some  very  pretty  views,  and,  if  Mount  Everett  and  Bash- 
bish  have  come  within  the  range  of  his  travels,  some 
grand  ones, — but  with  this  latter  exception,  the  only 
scenery  in  Berkshire  that  is  really  notable  for  grandeur, 
is  in  these  three  towns  of  Florida,  Adams,  and  Wil- 
liamstown.  It  is  true  that  Greylock  may  be  seen  on 
a  clear  day  with  the  naked  eye  from  Pittsfield  and 
other  towns  in  Southern  Berkshire,  but  one  who  looks 
upon  it  from  that  distance  cannot  even  conjecture  the 
grand  configurations  of  mountain  forms,  that  are  visi 
ble  here  from  any  valley,  or  the  marvellous  magnifi 
cence  of  the  prospect  from  any  of  these  summits. 
Mountains  are  to  the  traveler,  what  his  best  achieve 
ments  are  to  the  wise  man,  beautiful  not  so  much  in 
themselves  as  in  the  outlook  they  afford.  And  they 
who  look  from  the  slightly  undulating  surfaces  of 
Southern  Berkshire  upon- the  outline  of  Greylock  in 
the  northern  horizon,  know  but  little  of  the  sublimity 
of  the  visions  they  might  have  if  they  would  climb  to 
his  top.  Visiting  the  Berkshire  Hills  without  going 
north  of  Pittsfield,  is  like  the  play  of  Hamlet  with  a 
good  likeness  of  Hamlet  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner 


FORT    MASSACHUSETTS.  121 

of  the  drop  scene,  and  no  other  hint  or  mention  of 
him  during  the  performance. 

Our  first  drive  shall^e  along  a  charming  valley  road 
to  a  place  of  precious  memory, — dear  and  sacred  old 

WILLIAMSTOWN. 

Just  beyond  Braytonville  the  highway  crosses  the 
Troy  and  Boston  Railroad;  the  white  house  and  farm 
buildings -of  Mr.  Bradford  Harrison  are  on  the  right, 
and  on  the  left,  in  the  meadow,  twenty  or  thirty  rods 
from  the  railroad,  a  small  elm  tree  is  growing.  That 
tree  was  planted  by  students  of  Williams  College,  in 
the  year  1857,  to  mark  the  site  of  old  Fort  Massachu 
setts. 

During  the  French  and  Indian  wars,  the  invading 
forces  from  Canada  more  frequently  followed  the 
course  of  the  Connecticut  River  southward  into  Mas 
sachusetts  ;  but  occasionally  they  came  down  by  way  of 
Lake  Champlain,  the  Hudson  and  the  Hoosac  Valleys, 
crossing  the  Hoosac  Mountain  at  this  point,  and  fol 
lowing  the  Deerfield  River  down  to  the  Connecticut. 
To  protect  the  settlements  against  these  incursions  Fort 
Massachusetts  was  built,  about  1744.  It  does  not  re 
quire  any  profound  knowledge  of  military  science  to 
discover  that  the  fort  was  badly  placed.  The  rocky 
bluffs  on  the  north  were  within  rifle  range,  and  from 
them  an  enemy  could  look  down  into  the  stockade  and 
ascertain  the  strength  of  its  garrison.  "A  judicious 
choice  of  posts,"  says  General  Hoyt,  "  and  the  princi 
ples  of  fortifications,  though  probably  understood  by 
6 


122     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

the  engineers  of  the  time,  seem  not  to  have  been  re 
garded  in  early  wars.  Most  of  these  works  were  built 
on  low  grounds,  often  in  the  Vicinity  of  commanding 
heights,  generally  constructed  of  single  stockades  with 
out  ditches  or  flanking  posts,  capable  only  of  a  direct 
fire,  and  against  the  lightest  artillery  untenable."  But 
what  these  pioneer  soldiers  lacked  in  science  they 
made  up  in  courage.  Fort  Massachusetts  is  poorly 
located,  but  it  was  defended  by  some  of  the  bravest 
men  that  ever  lived ;  and  it  was  the  scene  of  one  of 
the  pluckiest  fights  recorded  in  our  history. 

Captain  (afterward  Colonel)  Ephraim  Williams  was 
the  first  commander  of  the  defences  in  this  neighbor 
hood,  and  his  head-quarters  were  in  Fort  Massachu 
setts.  During  the  summer  of  1746  an  expedition 
against  Canada  was  projected,  Captain  Williams  was 
summoned  to  Albany  to  join  it,  and  the  garrison  was 
left  in  the  charge  of  Sergeant  John  Hawks  with  only 
twenty-two  effective  men.  After  the  departure  of  Cap 
tain  Williams,  Indians  were  seen  prowling  about  the 
heights,  north  of  the  fort;  and  on  the  2oth  of  August, 
a  force  of  nine  hundred  French  and  Indians,  under 
the  command  of  General  Rigaud  de  Vandreuil,  seized 
this  hill  on  the  right  of  the  road  where  the  chestnut 
woods  now  stand,  and  sent  to  Sergeant  Hawks  a  de 
mand  for  the  surrender  of  the  fort.  The  sergeant  had 
no  artillery,  and  but  a  poor  supply  of  ammunition ;  but 
he  promptly  rejected  the  proposal  of  the  French  com 
mander,  and  with  his  twenty-two  brave  men  defended 
the  fort  for  twenty-eight  hours  against  the  overwhelm- 


NEW  ENGLAND  S  THERMOPYLAE.      123 

ing  force  of  the  enemy.  Every  Indian  or  Frenchman 
who  came  out  from  the  safe  cover  of  the  forest  was  a 
target  for  these  twenty-two  sharp-shooters ;  and  some 
were  killed  at  the  long  range  of  sixty  rods.  The  ammu 
nition  of  the  garrison  was  finally  exhausted,  and  Hawks 
capitulated,  making  the  condition  that  his  forces  should 
be  humanely  treated  as  prisoners  of  war,  and  should 
not  be  delivered  to  the  Indians.  The  French  com 
mander  accepted  his  terms  of  capitulation,  and  per 
fidiously  violated  them  the  following  day  by  surrender 
ing  half  of  the  prisoners  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians. 
One  man  who  was  sick  and  unable  to  march  was  killed 
by  the  savages ;  the  others  were  taken  to  Canada  as 
prisoners,  and  were  finally  exchanged.  The  assailants 
lost  forty-seven  men  before  the  fort ;  while  of  the  brave 
little  garrison  only  one  was  killed.  The  bravery  of 
Sergeant  Hawks  was  rewarded  by  promotion;  after 
ward,  in  the  war  of  1755  he  rose  to  the  rank  of  lieu 
tenant-colonel.  "Bold,  hardy  and  enterprising,  he 
acquired  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  his'  superior 
officers  and  was  entrusted  with  important  commands. 
He  was  no  less  valued  by  the  inhabitants  of  Deerfield, 
his  native  town,  for  his  civil  qualities."* 

The  ambuscade  at  the  Bars  in  the  Deerfield  Meadow, 
to  which  allusion  has  already  been  made,  was  formed  by 
a  party  of  these  Indians  under  Vandreuil,  who  crossed 
the  mountain  after  the  surrender  of  the  fort  and  made 
their  way  to  Deerfield.  The  fort  was  demolished  by 
its  captors,  but  was  rebuilt  and  more  strongly  garri- 

*  Hoyt's  Indian  Wars,  p.  238. 


124     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

soned  during  the  following  year.  In  all  the  subse 
quent  wars  with  the  French  and  Indians,  until  the 
Peace  of  Paris  in  1763  this  fort  was  a  post  of  much 
importance,  and  frequent  mention  is  made  of  it  in 
the  old  histories. 

From  the  time  of  the  building  of  the  fort  until 
1755,  the  command  of  the  forces  and  the  defences  of 
this  region  devolved  as  we  have  seen,  upon  Colonel 
Ephraim  Williams,  a  native  of  Newton,  and  one  of  the 
first  settlers  of  Stockbridge.  Though  frequently  called 
to  active  service  elsewhere  his  head-quarters  were  at 
this  fort,  and  with  the  few  settlers  who  occupied  this 
valley  he  had  thoroughly  identified  himself,  sharing 
their  perils  and  privations,  and  studying  their  welfare. 
In  the  year  1735,  Colonel  Williams,  then  in  command 
of  a  regiment,  was  summoned  to  join  General  Johnson, 
whose  head-quarters  were  then  at  the  head  of  Lake 
George,  near  the  site  of  the  present  village  of  Cald- 
well.  On  his  way  to  this  post,  with  an  apparent  pre 
sentiment  of  his  fate,  the  Colonel  halted  at  Albany  and 
made  his  will  on  the  22d  of  July;  in  which,  after  sev 
eral  bequests  to  his  relatives  and  friends  he  directed 
"  that  the  remainder  of  his  land  should  be  sold  at  the 
discretion  of  his  executors  within  five  years  after  an 
established  peace  ;  and  that  the  interest  of  the  monies 
arising  from  the  sale,  and  also  the  interest  of  his  notes 
and  bonds,  should  be  applied  to  the  support  of  a  free 
school  in  a  township  west  of  Fort  Massachusetts,  for 
ever  ;  provided  said  township  fall  within  Massachusetts, 
on  running  the  line  between  Massachusetts  and  New 


THE    GRAVE 'OF    A    HERO.  125 

York ;  and  providing  the  said  township  when  incorpor 
ated  shall  be  called  Williamstown." 

On  the  8th  of  September,  following,  he  was  des 
patched  from  the  camp  on  Lake  George  at  the  head 
ctf  twelve  hundred  men  upon  a  most  important  and 
hazardous  enterprise  ;  and  falling  into  an  ambuscade 
of  French  and  Indians  was  shot  through  the  head. 
His  body  was  buried  near  the  spot  where  he  fell,  on 
the  right  of  the  road  running  from  Glen's  Falls  to 
Caldwell,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  Bloody  Pond,  a  lake 
let  which  on  that  day  received  its  terrible  christening. 
A  large  rock  has  always  been  pointed  out  as  marking 
the  spot  where  he  fell ;  and  upon  this  rock  the  students 
of  Williams  College  a  few  years  ago  erected  a  marble 
monument,  with  an  appropriate  inscription.  The 
writer  of  this  book  well  remembers  descending  one 
midnight  from  the  stage-coach  in  which,  a  lonely 
passenger,  he  was  making  his  way  over  the  old  war 
path  from  Lake  George  to  the  Hudson ;  and  clamber 
ing  under  the  light  of  the  stars  up  the  rude  foot-path 
to  the  rock  among  the  bushes,  where  the  little  marble 
obelisk  guards  the  dust  of  this  brave  and  good  soldier. 

The  provision  in  the  will  of  Colonel  Williams  was 
the  foundation  of  Williams  College.  The  sum  thus 
bequeathed  was  increased  by  donations  of  individuals, 
and  by  a  pious  lottery  which  the  Legislature  granted 
to  the  trustees  of  the  fund,  until,  in  1790,  the  solid 
walls  of  old  West  College  were  erected,  and  a  consid 
erable  fund  was  placed  at  interest  to  assist  in  main 
taining  the  school.  It  consisted  at  first  of  two  depart- 


126     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

ments — an  academy  or  grammar  school  and  an  English 
free  school,  and  was  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Ebenezer 
Fitch,  a  graduate  of  Yale.  In  1793  it  was  erected  into 
a  college,  and  the  first  class,  numbering  four,  was  grad 
uated  September  2,  1795.  Dr.  Fitch  continued  at  thi 
head  of  the  college  till  1815,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Rev.  Zephaniah  Swift  Moore,  D.  D.  ^.n  effort  was 
made  in  1818  to  transfer  the  college  to  Northampton, 
but  after  a  stormy  and  protracted  contest  the  Legisla 
ture  decided  against  a  change  of  location.  Upon  this, 
Dr.  Moore  who  had  favored  the  removal,  resigned  the 
presidency;  and  Rev.  Edward  Dorr  Griffin,  of  great 
fame  as  a  theologian  and  a  pulpit  orator,  was  called  to 
succeed  him.  Under  his  administration  the  college 
which  had  been  in  a  low  condition  for  several  years, 
regained  its  prosperity.  In  1836,  he  was  compelled 
by  declining  health  to  withdraw  from  the  position  which 
he  had  so  abundantly  honored,  and  his  mantle  fell  upon 
one  who  was  worthy  to  wear  it,  and  who  for  thirty-three 
years  has  worn  it  worthily.  Wonderful  aptitude  for 
teaching,  great  prudence  and  skill  in  administration, 
dignity  of  demeanor  and  purity  of  character  have 
made  him  the  most  revered  and  most  illustrious,  as 
he  is  now  the  oldest  college  president  in  the  land; 
while  his  contributions  to  philosophy  and  his  active 
participation  in  the  various  enterprises  of  Christian 
benevolence,  have  gained  for  him  the  admiration  and 
confidence  of  good  men  everywhere.  Under  the  man 
agement  of  President  Hopkins  and  his  efficient  coad 
jutors  in  the  faculty,  the  college  has  advanced  to  a 


THE   ROAD    TO    WILLIAMSTOWN.  I2/ 

leading  position.  The  number  of  students  is  not  so 
large  as  in  some  of  our  New  England  colleges,  varying 
from  two  hundred  to  two  hundred  and  fifty,  but  the 
instruction  is  all  given  by  professors  of  experience, 
instead  of  being  entrusted,  as  in  many  colleges,  to 
incompetent  tutors ;  thus  securing  a  thoroughness  not 
easily  attainable  under  the  other  system. 

From  this  valley  road  the  profile  of  the  mountain 
on  the  south  resembles  a  saddle ;  and  this  likeness 
gave  to  this  group  of  hills  of  which  Greylock  is  the 
central  eminence,  the  ugly  name  of  Saddle  Mountain, 
by  which  it  is  known  in  the  geographies.  The  highest 
of  the  two  peaks  visible  at  this  point,  and  the  one 
nearest  North  Adams,  is  Mount  Williams ;  the  other 
is  Mount  Prospect. 

Just  beyond  Fort  Massachusetts,  in  the  center  of 
the  valley,  is  the  Greylock  Cotton  Mill,  amid  its  cluster 
of  drab  cottages. 

Blackinton  is  the  name  of  the  neat  white  factory 
village  a  mile  further  west.  The  woolen  mill  of  S. 
Blackinton  &  Son  built  the  village  and  one  of  the  larg 
est  fortunes  in  Berkshire.  The  little  brown  wooden 
building  in  which  the  senior  proprietor  begun  the 
business,  working  with  his  own  hands, — is  standing  a 
little  west  of  the  mill.  We  cross  the  railroad  and  the 
river  by  a  covered  bridge  beyond  Blackinton,  and  soon 
after  ascend  a  little  eminence  in  the  road  from  which 
the  whole  valley  opens  magnificently.  In  the  west, 
and  running  far  to  the  north  are  the  Taghkanic  Hills 
with  their  swelling  slopes  and  their  wavy  outlines; 


128     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

between  them  and  the  hill  on  our  right,  which  is  a 
continuation  of  Mount  Adams,  and  is  known  on  this 
side  indifferently  as  Oak  Hill  and  East  Mountain,  the 
green  valley  of  the  Hoosac  narrows  to  a  gorge  in  the 
north-west ;  in  the  northern  horizon  The  Dome,  a  noble 
and  symmetrical  peak,  is  built  up  into  the  sky ;  on  the 
south  the  wooded  ridge  of  Prospect  stretches  away 
toward  the  Hopper,  the  opening  of  which  is  scarcely 
visible ;  in  the  east  beyond  the  narrow  opening  be 
tween  Mount  Adams  and  the  southern  group  the  mas 
sive  battlements  of  the  Hoosac  Mountain  close  the 
scene.  Within  this  circle  of  hills  a  most  charming 
valley  is  included.  Observe  the  beautiful  variety  of 
surface;  the  natural  grouping  of  the  trees  upon  the 
slopes;  the  picturesque  and  park-like  appearance  of 
the  whole  landscape. 

Soon  we  pass  through  the  factory  grounds  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  village,  cross  another  covered  bridge, 
ascend  a  little  hill  and  find  ourselves  at  the  foot  of  the 
broad  and  shady  street  on  which  the  old  village  is  built. 
Williamstown,  like  Boston,  boasts  its  three  hills,  each 
of  which  in  its  day  was  crowned  with  historic  edifices, 
but  from  one  of  them  the  glory  has  departed.  At  the 
top  of  the  first  hill  on  the  right  stands  Griffin  Hall, — 
once  the  chapel,  but  now  containing  the  college  cabinet, 
and  the  head-quarters  of  the  Natural  History  Depart 
ment.  In  front  of  Griffin  Hall  upon  the  brow  of  the 
hill  is  the  soldiers'  monument — a  freestone  shaft,  sur 
mounted  by  the  bronze  statue  of  a  soldier, — erected 
in  honor  of  the  Williams  boys  who  fell  in  the  late  war. 


CLASSIC    SHADES.  1 29 

Just  beyond  Griffin  Hall  is  Goodrich  Hall,  a  noble 
stone  edifice,  the  gift  of  Hon.  John  Z.  Goodrich  of 
Stockbridge,  containing  the  Gymnasium,  the  Bowling 
Alley,  and  the  Chemical  Laboratory.  Across  the 
street  are  East  and  South  Colleges, — dormitories  occu 
pied  by  the  Senior  and  Junior  Classes.  Lawrence 
Hall  is  an  octagonal  building  named  in  honor  of  Amos 
Lawrence,  one  of  the  most  liberal  patrons  of  the  col 
lege  ;  which  contains  the  Library,  the  collection  of  por 
traits  of  graduates,  and  some  sculptures  in  bas-relief 
from  ancient  Nineveh.  Just  beyond  Lawrence  Hall 
is  the  Chapel  with  Alumni  Hall  in  the  rear.  South 
east  of  the  group  of  buildings,  nearly  hidden  from  the 
street  by  the  foliage,  is  the  Astronomical  Observatory 
— the  first  one  built  on  this  continent — the  Magnetic 
Observatory,  and  Jackson  Hall,  built  by  Nathan  Jack 
son,  Esq.,  of  New  York,  another  generous  friend  of 
the  college,  and  occupied  by  the  Lyceum  of  Natural 
History.  The  tower  of  this  building  commands  an 
excellent  view  of  the  valley  and  its  encircling  hills. 
The  new  Congregational  Church  is  on  the  right  be 
yond  this  first  group  of  college  buildings.  On  the 
top  of  the  next  hill,  old  West  College,  the  original 
Academy  and  Free  School,  erected  in  1790,  stands 
on  the  left.  This  building  and  Kellogg  Hall  in  its 
rear,  are  dormitories  for  the  Sophomore  and  Fresh 
man  Classes.  The  President's  mansion  is  opposite 
West  College. 

At  the  head  of  the  street,  upon  the  western  eminence, 
perished  by  fire,  three  winte*  ago,  the  old  Congrega- 
6* 


I3O     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

tional  Meeting-House.  Williamstown  street  without 
the  old  church  at  the  head  of  it,  is  a  song  without  a 
cadence.  To  many  of  the  graduates,  Williamstown 
will  never  be  quite  herself  again,  now  that  the  old 
church  is  no  more. 

Just  beyond  West  College  we  turn  to  the  right  into 
a  street  leading  to  Mills  Park,  an  enclosure  of  ten 
acres,  in  which  a  marble  shaft  surmounted  by  a  globe, 
marks  the  spot  where  Samuel  J.  Mills  and  his  associ 
ates  met  by  a  hay-stack  in  1807,  to  consecrate  them 
selves  to  the  work  of  foreign  missions.  That  was  the 
beginning  in  America  of  this  great  enterprise  of  Chris 
tian  benevolence. 

Returning  to  the  principal  street,  we  go  on  westward 
and  turn  to  the  north  at  the  Mansion  House.  Follow 
ing  the  road  through  the  valley  at  the  foot  of  the 
Taghkanic  range  for  a  mile  and  a  half,  we  turn  to  the 
right  into  a  cross-road  which  leads  up  to  a  little  group 
of  plain  brown  buildings  with  a  sloping  green  in  front 
of  them.  These  are  the .  little  hostelry  and  bathing- 
houses  of  the  Williamstown  Mineral  Spring, — known 
to  fame  in  these  quarters,  and  among  graduates  of 
Williams  College  everywhere,  as  the  "Sand  Spring." 
The  temperature  of  the  water,  the  supply  of  which  is 
abundant,  is  about  70°  Fahrenheit  the  year  round; 
and  while  it  is  said  to  be  a  valuable  alterative  and  tonic 
in  many  diseases,  it  furnishes  one  of  the  most  delicious 
baths  ever  enjoyed  by  mortals.  In  the  cure  of  cuta 
neous  diseases  these  baths  are  said  to  be  remarkably 
efficacious.  How  true  thl§  may  be  with  regard  to  other 


A    SOVEREIGN    REMEDY.  13! 

forms  of  skin  disease  we  know  not;  but  for  that  form 
of  the  disease  which  is  most  prevalent  and  .most  fatal, — 
known  among  the  ancients  as  spurcitia  or  aicaSops-fo,  and 
among  the  moderns  by  a  name  so  common  that  it  is 
hardly  worth  while  to  repeat  it,  they  are  certainly  a 
specific.  In  the  little  bathing-house  you  will  find  swim 
ming  baths,  plunge  baths,  shower  baths,  and  all  neces 
sary  conveniences  for  the  refreshment  and  purification 
of  the  outer  man.  Give  them  a  thorough  trial  and 
you  will  return  to  you  lodgings  cleaner,  handsomer, 
happier  and  better  men  and  women. 

SOUTH   ADAMS   AND   THE    NOTCH. 

The  East  Road  to  South  Adorns  is  the  continuation 
of  South  Church  street.  For  the  first  two  miles  it 
runs  between  the  mountain  and  a  series  of  diluvial  hill 
ocks  that  stand  at  its  base.  These  conical  mounds 
frequently  occur  in  the  country,  but  they  are  not  often 
found  so  symmetrically  disposed  as  at  this  point. 
They  are  composed  of  sand  and  gravel,  and  so  regular 
are  they  in  form  that  it  is  easy  to  suppose  them  to  be 
the  work  of  human  hands.  The  earlier  theory  was 
that  they  were  erected  by  the  primitive  races,  either 
as  fortifications  or  as  burial  mounds ;  and  this  theory 
has  found  poetical  expression  in  one  of  Whittier's  latest 
and  best  lyrics, — "  The  Grave  by  the  Lake."  But  the 
geologists  say,  (and  who  can  confute  the  geologists?) 
that  these  mounds  were  caused  by  the  action  of  water ; 
though  just  how  the  water  could  have  piled  them  up 
in  their  present  forms  they  do  not  tell  -us  very  definitely. 


132     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

Two  miles  south  of  the  village  a  mound  is  seen  on 
the  left  hand  side  of  the  road  which,  it  is  pretty  safe 
to  conjecture,  is  the  work  of  men's  hands.  It  is  com 
posed  of  the  earth  taken  out  of  the  open  cutting  at 
the  western  portal  of  the  Hoosac  Tunnel.  The  em 
bankment  of  the  railroad  is  built  as  far  as  the  highway, 
and  the  road  to  the  tunnel  follows  the  embankment. 
For  an  account  of  what  is  to  be  seen  at  this  point  the 
reader  is  referred  to  the  preceding  chapter. 

Having  "done"  the  west  end  and  the  west  shaft 
in  much  less  time  than  the  Messrs.  Shanly  with  all 
their  energy  will  require  to  do  them ;  and  having  ex 
plored,  if  we  have  a  taste  for  such  explorations,  the 
Nitro-glycerine  Works  near  the  shaft  where  Mr.  Mow- 
bray  manufactures  the  mild  mixture,  whose  liquid  elo 
quence  so  gently  persuades  the  rocks  asunder,  we 
go  on  southward.  Two  miles  beyond  the  tunnel  we 
reach  an  eminence  in  the  road  upon  which  we  shall 
do  well  to  pause  and  look  about  us.  At  the  head  of 
the  valley  in  the  north,  walled  in  on  three  sides  by 
the  mountains,  lies  the  village  of  North  Adams  ;  before 
us  is  South  Adams,  and  the  beautiful  hills  beyond,  in 
Cheshire,  and  Savoy;  between  these  two  villages  the 
eye  ranges  over  the  whole  six  miles  of  fertile  valley — 
a  carpet  of  cunning  patterns  and  matchless  coloring, 
seamed  by  the  railway  and  embroidered  by  the  river; 
and  directly  opposite,  across  the  valley  is  the  majestic 
front  of  Greylock,  rising  abruptly  from  the  plain  be 
low  to  a  height  of  three  thousand  feet  above  the  river 
bed  and  thirty-five  hundred  feet  above  tide  water. 


HOOSAC  TUNNEL— WESTERN  PORTAL. 


SOUTH    ADAMS    FROM    THE    NORTH.  133 

A  mile  further  on  the  road  follows  a  brook  down 
into  the  village  -of  South  Adams  through  which  we 
may  drive  briskly ;  admiring  the  enterprise  that  keeps 
so  many  mills  running  busily,  the  public  spirit  that 
has  built  so  fine  a  school-house  as  the  one  we  see 
upon  the  hill,  and  the  taste  that  has  begun  as  in  North 
Adams  to  ornament  and  improve  the  private  residences 
and  grounds. 

Near  the  depot  a  street  leads  westward  directly  to 
ward  the  base  of  Greylock ;  that  we  follow  to  the  old 
Quaker  Meeting-House,  then  turn  to  the  right  into  the 
mountain  road  that  leacls  over  the  lower  ridge  of  the 
Greylock  group  into  the  Notch.  There  is  hard  climb 
ing  before  us,  but  we  shall  have  our  reward.  As  soon 
as  we  reach  that  eminence  just  above  us,  we  will  look 
backward.  On  our  right  the  Hoosac  range  lifts  up  its 
level  rampart — southward  the  lines  of  the  horizon  are 
broken  by  the  bolder  peaks  of  the  Cheshire  mountains. 
Just  below  us,  in  the  widening  of  the  valley  lies  South 
Adams,  and  beyond  it  are  the  eastward  slopes,  over 
which  the  Williamsburg  and  North  Adams  Railroad  is 
to  run  through  Sq.voy.  It  is  a  very  pretty  picture,  but 
we  must  not  stay  to  look  upon  it,  for  there  are  richer 
prospects  before  us.  A  little  further  on  we  flank  a 
forest  that  has  stood  between  us  and  the  valley  on  our 
right,  and  reach  a  point  from  which  we  can  look  right 
down  into  the  beautiful  meadows  through  which  the 
Hoosac  River  runs.  Did  grass  ever  grow  greener  than 
the  grass  of  those  meadows,  or  was  sunshine  ever 
brighter  than  this  golden  flood  that  fills  the  valley  with 


134     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

its  splendor  ?  Look  at  the  river  with  its  willow  fringes 
winding  down  through  the  meadows".  Plainly  it  is  in 
no  hurry.  In  its  quiet  search  of  coolness  and  beauty 
it  explores  the  whole  valley.  More  than  once  it  goes 
back  as  if  it  had  forgotten  something, — to  bathe  some 
thirsty  cresses  perhaps,  or  to  sing  its  low  sweet  song 
in  the  shade  of  some  alder-bushes.  The  river  had  a 
hard  passage  through  South  Adams.  It  had  to  go 
through  the  mill — several  mills,  indeed.  The  water- 
wheels  churned  it  into  foam ;  the  flumes  led  it  through 
dark  and  perilous  passages^  the  dyers  stained  its 
purity  with  logwood  and  copperas.  It  was  made  a 
menial  servant  and 'a  scavenger.  It  did  not  enjoy 
town  life,  at  all.  And  now  that  it  has  escaped  into 
the  quiet  country  again,  it  means  to  make  the  most  of 
the  country  delights.  So  it  lingers  as  long  as  it  can 
in  these  green  fields,  and  among  these  sedges.  If  it 
only  knew  what  it  must  pass  through  at  North  Adams 
it  would  stay  even  longer,  I  think. 

While  we  have  been  looking  down  into  this  valley, 
our  steed  has  been  tugging  up  a  steep  acclivity,  and 
suddenly,  as  we  reach  the  top,  there  #pens  before  us  a 
new  scene.  I  think  we  can  afford  now  to  let  our  horse 
have  a  breathing  spell.  A  panorama  opens  before  us 
here,  that  we  shall  not  tire  of  looking  at  till  he  is  rested. 
Far  away  to  the  northward  opens  the  valley  through 
which  the  north  branch  of  the  Hoosac  flows  down  from 
the  mountains  of  Vermont.  On  the  east  the  Hoosac 
range  stretches  away  toward  the  north  as  far  as  the 
eye  can  see :  from  the  hills  of  Savoy  behind  us  to  the 


DOWN    INTO    THE    NOTCH.  135 

northern  horizon  in  Readsboro,  there  must  be  nearly 
twenty  miles  of  this  straight  unbroken  mountain  chain, 
whose  eastern  slope  is  in  full  view.  On  the  east  our 
vision  is  bounded  by  the  range  of  which  Mount  Adams 
is  the  southern  abutment.  Between  these  two  ranges 
the  valley  stretches  away  narrowing  toward  its  northern 
extremity  till  it  is  lost  in  the  blue  distance  between  the 
hills.  This  view  is  not  so  extensive  as  the  view  from 
Greylock  or  Mount  Hopkins  or  the  farther  side  of  the 
Hoosac  Mountain,  but  one  would  hardly  be  willing  to 
admit  that  it  is  less  beautiful  than  the  fairest  of  them. 

Going  on  a  little  farther  we  reach  a  little  eminence, 
from  which  the  view  is  widened  somewhat ;  the  north 
ern  portion  of  North  Adams  comes  into  plain  view, 
and  Mount  A4am  s  confronts  us  with  its  solid  grand 
eur  of  outline. 

Now  we  turn  to  the  westward,  passing  on  the  left 
the  signal  station  built  by"  Mr.  Doane  for  keeping  the 
range  of  the  tunnel, — and  begin  a  rapid  descent.  To 
timid  persons  this  may  seem  a  perilous  passage,  but 
the  road  is  smooth,  and  with  a  skillful  driver,  a  steady 
horse  and  a  stout  harness  there  is  not  a  particle  of 
danger.  If  you  were  inclined  to  be  afraid  the  laugh 
ing  of  this  little  brook  by  the  roadside  would  reassure 
you.  Soon  we  emerge  from  the  thicket  of  low  birches 
and  wild  cherry  trees  through  which  we  have  been 
winding  and  find  ourselves  in  the  Notch.  On  the  one 
side  rises  the  steep  flank  of  the  mountain  over  which 
we  have  just  passed  —  on  the  other  tower  Greylock, 
Fitch  arid  Williams  —  a  trinity  of  majestic  mountain 


136     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

peaks.  Now  you  see  the  reason  why  the  wind  blows 
so  furiously  here  in  winter.  The  north-west  gales 
coming  up  the  Hoosac  Valley  are  stopped  in  their 
course  by  the  northern  spur  of  the  hill  over  which  we 
have  passed;  and  instead  of  following  the  river  to 
South  Adams  they  take  this  shorter  course  through 
the  Notch.  At  its  southern  end  the  Notch  grows  nal- 
row  and  if  you  stand  at  the  very  extremity  of  it,  where 
it  opens  into  the  south  Adams  Valley  on  some  windy 
day  in  March,  you  would  be  able  to  understand  why 
it  has  been  called  the  Bellows  Pipe.  It  may  occur  to 
some  travelers  that  no  name  has  been  given  to  the 
ridge  over  which  we  have  just  climbed, — which  runs 
parallel  with  the  Greylock  ridge  and  extends  from  the 
marble  quarries  at  North  Adams  nearly  to  the  village 
of  South  Adams.  Until  now  it  has  been  nameless, 
as  it  certainly  does  not  deserve  to  be.  A  mountain 
that  affords  so  grand  a  prospect,  and  the  highest  peak 
of  which  rises  not  less  than  two  thousand  five  hundred 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea — nearly  three  times  as 
high  as  the  famous  Mount  Holyoke  might  claim  at 
least  the  barren  honor  of  a  name.  By  what  name 
shall  it  be  called  ?  That  gallant  soldier  whose  heroism 
is  recorded  in  this  chapter,— who  held  what  Mr. 
Everett  called  the  Thermopylae  of  New  England,  so 
bravely  for  so  many  hours,  against  such  fearful  odds, 
is  without  honor  in  the  country  he  defended  by  his 
valor.  The  soldier  deserves  a  monument ;  the  moun 
tain  deserves  a  name  ;  why  may  we  not  fittingly  write 
the  soldier's  name  upon  the  mountain,^and  let  MOUNT 


THE  VALLEY  FROM  THE  BLUFF.      137 

HAWKS  perpetuate  the  memory  of  a  man  whom  Massa 
chusetts  cannot  afford  to  forget. 

When  we  emerge  from  the  Notch,  we  follow  the 
road  around  the  base  of  Mount  Williams  to  a  point  on 
the  western  slope  of  the  hill,  where  we  turn  sharply  to 
the  right  and  descend.  If,  however,  we  are  not  too 
weary,  we  shall  find  it  to  our  account  to  drive  west 
ward  for  a  mile  or  more  along  the  road  that  follows 
the  top  of  the  bluff.  Near  the  foot  of  ProspeQt,  we 
may  halt  upon  the  top  of  a  declivity  where  the  best 
view  is  obtained  of  the  Taghkanic  range.  The  bold 
outline  of  these  beautiful  hills,  the  deep  ravines  that 
furrow  their  sides,  and  the  transverse  ridges  that  are 
built  like  buttresses  against  their  solid  wall,  are  "grandly 
shown  at  this  point.  From  any  point  of  this  bluff,  as 
well  as  from  the  road  b.y  which  we  descend  when  we 
return,  the  view  of  the  Hoosac  Valley,  overlooked  by 
the  beautiful  Williamstown  upon  its  classic  heights, 
holding  in  its  lap  the  busy  Blackinton  and  Gseylock, 
and  parted  by  the  winding  river  that  turns  with  •  equal 
facility  the  wheels  of  the  mills  and  the  sentences  of  the 
sophomores,  is  a  view  not  to  be  missed  by  any  so- 
j  ourner  among  the  hills  of  Berkshire. 

MOUNT   HOPKINS 

is  the  highest  peak  of  the  Taghkanic  chain.  As  you 
pass  over  the  hill  at  the  Cemetery,  going  toward  Wil 
liamstown,  it  lies  directly  before  you.  One  of  the  in 
dentations  in  the  horizon  is  cleared  of  timber  for  some 
distance;  on  the  right  of  this  clearing  are  two  bold 


138     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

peaks  that  are  nameless ;  on  the  left  is  Mount  Hopkins. 
Its  twin  summits,  \vith  but  little  distance  or  depression 
between  them,  bear  the  name  of  the  honored  President 
of  Williams  College  and  his  no  less  honored  brother, 
Professor  Albert  Hopkins,  who  for  many  years  has 
occupied  the  chair  of  Natural  Philosophy  and  Astron 
omy  in  Williams  College ;  whose  enterprise  built  the 
Astronomical  and  the  Magnetic  Observatories ;  whose 
taste  adorned  the  College  grounds ;  whose  name  is  the 
synonym  of  the  truest  Christian  integrity,  and  whose 
love  of  nature  has  qualified  him  to  be  her  chief  inter 
preter  in  all  this  region.  No  man  knows  the  beauty 
of  Berkshire  so  well,  no  man  loves  it  with  so  pure  an 
enthusiasm  as  Professor  Hopkins.  The  tribute  of  re 
spect  which  is  paid  to  him  in  bestowing  his  name -upon 
this  mountain  is  but  a  slight  recognition  of  what  he  has 
done  to  lead  his  neighbors  and  his  pupils  into  the 
knowledge  and  the  love  of  the  true,  the  good  and  the 
beautiful. 

The  road  to  Mount  Hopkins  leads  through  W7illiams- 
town ;  turns  to  the  left,  just  beyond  the  site  of  the  old 
church ;  a  mile  further  on,  descends  to  the  left,  at  an 
other  parting  of  the  ways,  into  a  deep  ravine ;  at  the 
end  of  another  mile,  turns  to  the  right  through  a  beauti 
ful  wood ;  after  emerging  from  which,  it  passes  an  old 
school-house,  and  keeps  to  the  left  up  a  hill,  the  top  of 
which  is  reached  by  difficult  climbing,  when  we  find 
ourselves  in  the  clearing  upon  which  we  looked  from 
the  Cemetery  hill.  At  this  point,  the  eastern  view 
of  Greylock,  the  Hopper  on  its  western  side,  the  Adams 


FROM  THE  TOP  OF  MT.  HOPKINS.     139 

Valley,  the  Hoosac  Mountains  beyond,  and  the  western 
view  of  the  deep  valleys  and  the  billowy  hills  stretch 
ing  away  for  thirty  miles  toward  the  valley  of  the  Hud 
son,  are  to  a  lowlander  somewhat  notable.  Turning 
to  the  left,  into  the  pasture,  we  follow  a  wagon  track 
up  a  steep  acclivity,  and  pass  through  a  wood  into  a 
clearing.  An  old  cellar  marks  the  site  of  a  farm-house 
which  once  stood  here.  What  could  have  induced  any 
human  being  to  build  for  himself  a  habitation  upon 
this  mountain  top  it  is  'difficult  to  guess.  We  pass 
through  another  wood,  and  emerge  at  length  into  a 
clearing  upon  the  summit  of  Mount  Hopkins,  from 
which  the  view  is  perfect  in  every  direction.  On  the 
north  are  the  Green  Mountains  of  Vermont;  on  the 
east  .Greylock,  whose  grandeur  you  never  have  known 
till  you  have  looked  upon  him  from  this  summit;  on 
the  south  the  Taghkanic  range  and  the  valleys  that 
divide  it,  and  on  the  west  the  magnificent  reach  of  cul 
tivated  hills.  The  boats  on  the  Hudson  can  be  seen 
with  a  glass  on  a  clear  day.  The  view  on  the  south  is 
perhaps  the  longest  remembered.  Here  as  hardly 
anywhere  else  in  this  region  one  gets  an  impression  of 
the  stupendous  forces  that  have  reared  these  moun 
tain  ridges. 

This  summit  is  two  thousand  eight  hundred  feet 
above  tide-water,  and  it  is  reached  in  a  carriage,  with 
out  great  difficulty,  by  a  two  hours'  ride  from  North 
Adams.  The  tourist  should  be  provided  with  a  com 
pass,  a  field-glass,  a  lunch  and  warm  wrappings ;  he 
should  get  an  early  start  that  he  may  enjoy  the  western 


I4O     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

view  with  the  sun  at  his  back,  and  he  should  drive 
homeward  at  the  close  of  the  afternoon. 

Of  the  other  excursions  that  may  be  made  from 
North  Adams  the  mention  must  be  brief.  Among 
those  more  distant  we  may  mention  the  drive  to  Mount 
Anthony  near  Bennington,  where  from  an  observatory 
one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high  an  extended  and  di 
versified  view  is  obtained  of  the  whole  of  this  moun 
tainous  region. 

The  excursion  to  Pittsfield,  through  Williamstown 
and  Lanesboro,  passing  Pontoosuc  Lake,  is  easy  and 
delightful.  To  make  it  perfect,  cross  the  Taghkanic 
range  from  Pittsfield  to  New  Lebanon,  visit  the  SHAK 
ERS,  spend  the  night  at  the  Springs,  and  return  the 
next  day  through  Hancock  and  South  Williamstown. 

Snow  Glen  is  a  deep  fissure  on  the  western  side  of 
the  Taghkanics,  beyond  Williamstown,  where  snow 
may  be  found  in  midsummer.  The  western  prospect 
is  similar  to  that  from  Mount  Hopkins,  but  less  beauti 
ful.  The  carriage  road  passes  within  two  miles  of  the 
glen,  and  the  rest  of  the  journey  must  be  made  on  foot. 

Among  the  drives  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  North 
Adams,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  follows  the  north 
branch  of  the  Hoosac  to  Stamford;  returning  leaves 
the  valley  road  at  a  crossing  near  a  school-house,  and 
follows  the  base  of  the  Hoosac  Mountain,  passing  one 
road  that  turns  to  the  right,  and  after  that  keeping  to 
the  right  till  it  reaches  the  "Five  Points"  a  mile  east 
of  the  village  of  North  Adams. 

The  view  from  the  farm-house  of  Mr.  Joseph  Wheeler, 


EXCELSIOR !  141 

whose  red  buildings  are  seen  from  the  village  on  the 
side  of  Mount  Adams  is  a  delightful  one.  In  short  it 
may  be  said  of  the  drives  as  of  the  walks,  that  there 
is  no  road  leading  out  of  North  Adams  from  which 
you  may  not  gain,  without  traveling  far,  prospects 
which,  to  use  the  Frenchman's  climax,  are  either  mag 
nificent,  sublime,  or  pretty  good. 

TO   THE   TOP   OF   GREYLOCK. 

We  have  been  under  the  shadow  of  Greylock  long 
enough  to  have  some  desire  to  climb  to  his  summit. 
To  have  had  this  view  first  would  have  dulled  our  en 
joyment  of  the  scenes  upon  which  we  have  been  look 
ing.  Moreover,  this  tramp  to  the  top  of  Greylock 
requires  some  physical  stamina,  and  it  is  fair  to  sup 
pose  that  those  who  have  spent  a  week  in  the  bracing 
air  of  these  Berkshire  Hills  are  in  better  condition  for 
such  an  undertaking  than  they  were  when  they  came. 
There  was  good  reason,  therefore,  for  keeping  the  good 
wine  till  the  end  of  the  feast. 

At  the  time  of  the  writing  of  these  pages  it  is  diffi 
cult  to  give  full  information  as  to  the  best  way  of  as 
cending  Greylock.  Three  different  roads  have  been 
followed,  all  of  which  have  their  advantages.  One 
climbs  Bald  Mountain,  south  of  the  Hopper ;  another 
ascends  the  southern  side  of  the  mountain  from  South 
Adams ;  the  third  leaves  the  Notch  Road  at  the  house 
of  Mr.  Walden,  winds  round  the  northern  end  of  Mount 
Williams,  passes  through  a  clearing  known  as  Wilbur's 
Pasture  between  Williams  and  Prospect;  then  climbs 


142     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

the  ridge  on  its  western  side,  and  follows  it  southward 
to  the  clearing  on  the  top  of  Greylock.  At  present 
these  roads  are  all  bad ;  a  long  tramp  must  be  taken 
after  carriages  and  horses  are  left  behind ;  but  move 
ments  are  now  on  foot  to  improve  one  or  more  of  them, 
so  that  it  may  be  possible  to  reach  the  top  on  horse 
back  if  not  in  carriages.  The  view  from  the  summit 
is  not  so  good  as  it  would  be  if  a  tower  were  erected 
there.  The  top  of  the  mountain  is  cleared,  but  the 
forest  that  surrounds  the  clearing,  while  it  does  not 
greatly  interfere  with  the  distant  view,  shuts  out  from 
our  vision  the  valleys  in  the  immediate  neighborhood, 
and  without  a  sight  of  these  the  prospect  is  incom 
plete.  A  structure  of  some  sort,  forty  or  fifty  feet 
in  height,  would  give  us  both  the  near  and  the  dis 
tant  landscape.  Several  years  ago  such  a  tower  was 
erected,  but  through  accident  or  mischievous  design  it 
was  destroyed  by  fire.  It  is  hoped  that  another  may 
be  erected  early  in  the  present  season. 

Of  the  roads  to  the  top  of  Greylock,  the  one  which 
ascends  from  South  Adams  is  said  to  be  the  easiest ; 
but  for  grandeur  of  scenery  either  of  the  others  is  to 
be  preferred.  No  tourist  should  fail  to  visit  the  Hop 
per  whether  he  ascends  the  mountain  by  that  route  or 
not.  Following  up  Money  Brook  from  the  South  Wil- 
liarnstown  road  you  find  yourselves  at  the  entrance  of 
this  stupendous  amphitheatre  of  hills.  The  gorge  by 
which  the  brook  flows  out,  between  Prospect  on  the 
north  and  Bald  Mountain  on  the  south  is  very  nar 
row  ;  and  these  two  mountains,  together  with  Greylock 


MONEY  BROOK  AND  THE  HOPPER.     143 

which  rises  directly  before  us  as  we  enter,  constitute 
the  three  sides  of  this  wonderful  gulf.  Ascending  this 
brook  for  a  mile  and  a  half  you  may  find  upon  its 
southern  branch  the  most  remarkable  waterfall  in  this 
region.  The  water  comes  down  from  a  great  height 
in  successive  leaps;  the  rocks  over  which  it  tumbles 
rise  one  above  another  in  semicircular  tiers  like  the 
seats  in  a  theater;  and  their  sides  are  always  green 
with  the  most  beautiful  hanging  moss.  This  is  a  cas 
cade  which  has  been  visited  by  very  few  persons,  and 
the  writer  of  this  book  is  not  one  of  them.  You  have 
this  account,  therefore,  at  second  hand,  but  it  is  none 
the  less  reliable  on  that  account. 

It  will  not  do,  however,  to  attempt  the  exploration 
of  Money  Brook  and  its  cascade  on  the  same  day 
in  which  we  climb  Greylock.  That  must  be  a  separ 
ate  excursion.  It  is  enough  before  you  climb  Bald 
Mountain  if  you  ascend  the  stream  for  a  little  way, 
that  you  may  gain  some  adequate  impression  of  the 
loftiness  and  steepness  of  the  close  mountain  walls 
that  form  the  sides  of  this  enormous  sulf. 

o 

Ascending  now  to  the  top  of  Bald  Mountain,  follow 
its  naked  summit  nearly  to  its  most  northerly  point, 
and  there  the  gulf  opens  before  you, — a  yawning  abyss 
from  which  people  with  nerves  are  apt  to  shrink.  The 
chasm  is  more  than  a  thousand  feet  in  depth,  and  from 
the  point  where  you  are  standing  the  four  sides  seem 
to  converge  to  a  point  at  the  bottom.  With  the  ex 
ception  of  a  few  land-slides  this  gulf  is  wooded  on  all 
sides  from  base  to  summit.  The  wonder  is  that  these 


144    FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

slides  are  not  more  frequent,  and  that  the  mountains 
are  not  denuded  of  their  forests,  so  precipitous  are 
their  sides.  Occasional  patches  of  black  spruce  re 
lieve  the  lighter  foliage  of  the  slopes.  Probably  this 
world  does  not  contain  a  more  gorgeous  show  of  au 
tumnal  coloring  than  is  visible  here  in  early  October. 

Passing  on  from  Bald  Mountain  north-westerly  we 
reach  at  length  the  summit  of  Greylock,  and  stand 
upon  the  highest  land  in  Massachusetts.  An  enthusi 
astic  person  can  hardly  be  trusted  to  tell  what  is  visi 
ble  from  this  summit.  "I  know  of  no  place,"  says 
President  Hitchcock,  "where  the  mind  is  so  forcibly 
impressed  by  the  idea  of  vastness  and  even  of  immen 
sity,  as  when  the  eye  ranges  abroad  from  this  emi 
nence  ! "  Immensity !  no  smaller  word  will  fit  the 
scene. 

The  physical  geography  of  the  surrounding  region  'is 
such  as  to  give  to  this  view  all  the  elements  of  sublim 
ity.  A  single  mountain  peak  or  range,  in  the  midst  of 
a  comparatively  level  country,  may  afford  a  prospect  of 
extent,  variety  and  beauty ;  but  it  cannot  show  us  the 
glories  that  Greylock  reveals  from  his  summit.  Here 
is  a  belt  of  mountains  extending  from  the  Connecticut 
River  nearly  to  the  Hudson — a  distance  of  fifty  or 
sixty  miles — and  from  the  sources  of  the  Connecticut 
River  to  Long  Island  Sound.  •  "  To  regard  these  high 
lands,"  says  Dr.  Palfrey,  "  as  simply  ranges  of  hills 
would  not  be  to  conceive  of  them  aright.  They  are 
vast  swells  of  land  of  an  average  elevation  of  a  thou 
sand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  .  .  .  from  which, 


THE    CROWNING    GLORY.  145 

as  from  a  base,  mountains  rise  in  chains  or  in  isolated 
groups  to  an  altitude  of  several  thousand  feet  more." 
The  two  mountain  ranges  which  pass  through  these 
highlands — the  Hoosac  and  the  Taghkanic  chains — 
have,  according  to  the  same  authority,  "  a  regular  in 
crease  from  south  to  north.  From  a  height  of  less 
than  a  thousand  feet  in  Connecticut,  they  rise  to  an 
average  of  twenty-five  hundred  feet  in  Massachusetts, 
where  the  majestic  Greylock,  isolated  between  the  two 
chains,  lifts  its  head  to  the  stature  of  thirty-five  hun 
dred  feet."  It  will  be  seen,  therefore,  that  Greylock 
commands  a  view  of  exceptional  grandeur.  Down  at 
his  feet  lies  the  valley  of  the  Hoosac,  nearly  three 
thousand  feet  below ;  Pittsfield,4dth  its  beautiful  lakes, 
and  many  smaller  villages,  are  seen  in  the  valleys  and 
on  the  adjacent  slopes;  south-westward  the  eye  sweeps 
over  the  top  of  the  Taghkanics,  away  to  the  Catskills 
beyond  the  Hudson ;  north-westward  the  peaks  of  the 
Adirondacks,  in  Northern  New  York,  are  plainly  visible ; 
in  the  north  the  stujrdy  ridges  of  the  Green  Mountains 
file  away  in  grand  outline ;  on  the  east  Monadnock 
and  Wachusett  renew  their  stately  greeting,  and  Tom 
and  Holyoke  look  up  from  their  beautiful  valley ;  south 
ward  Mount  Everett  stands  sentinel  at  the  portal  of 
Berkshire,  through  which  the  Housatonic  flows;  and 
all  this  grand  circuit  is  filled  with  mountains.  Range 
beyond  range,  peak  above  peak,  they  stretch  away  on 
every  side,  a  boundless  expanse  of  mountain  summits. 
Standing  here,  and  taking  in  with  your  eye  all  that  is 
contained  within  the  vague  boundaries  of  the  horizon, 
_  2 


146     FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

you  receive  one  of  the  grandest  if  not  the  very  first 
impression  you  ever  had  of  distance,  of  immensity,  and 
of  illimitable  force.  It  is  well  if  one  can  see  the  sun 
set  and  the  .sunrise  from  this  eminence.  With  a  bed 
of  hemlock  boughs  for  a  couch  and  an  army  blanket 
for  a  covering,  any  robust  person  of  either  sex  will 
sleep  soundly  after  the  fatigue  of  the  ascent,  and  a 
cloudless  evening  and  morning  will  make  amends  for 
any  amount  of  discomfort. 

It  will  be  better  to  return  by  a  different  route  from 
that  by  which  we  ascended.  The  road  which  follows 
the  ridge  northward,  then  descends  to  the  west  into 
Wilbur's  Pasture,  and  winds  round  Mount  Williams  to 
the  east,  will  give  us  the  best  outlook.  The  view  from 
Prospect,  the  top  of  which  is  easily  reached  from  Wil 
bur's  Pasture,  is  one  that  we  must  not  miss.  Let  us 
hear  President  Hitchcock : 

"  On  turning  northerly,  and  proceeding  to  the  ex 
tremity  of  the  open  ground,  we  come  to  the  steep 
margin  of  the  mountain,  and  in  a  moment  the  beauti 
ful  valley  and  village  of  Williamstown  burst  like  a 
bright  vision  upon  the  eye.  ....  I  have  rarely 
if  ever  experienced  such  a  pleasing  change  from 
the  emotion  of  beauty  to  that  of  sublimity  as  at 
this  spot.  The  moment  one  fixes  his  eye  upon  the 
valley  of  Williamstown,  he  cannot  but  exclaim,  '  How 
beautiful ! '  But  ere  he  is  aware  of  it,  his  eye  is  fol 
lowing  up  and  onward  the  vast  mountain  slopes 
above  described,  and  on  the  far  off  horizon  he  wit 
nesses  intervening  ridge  after  ridge  peering  above 


GOOD-BY   TO    GREYLOCK.  147 

one  another,  until  they  are  lost  in  the  distance,  and 
unconsciously  he  finds  his  heart  swelling  with  the 
emotion  of  sublimity." 

Whether  the  route  we  have  chosen  for  the  ascent 
and  descerrt_of_ Greylock  will  be  the  one  selected  for 
improvement  cannot  now  be  stated;  but  it  certainly 
affords  more  varied  and  satisfactory  views  of  the 
scenery  of  the  Greylock  group  than  any  other.  If  the 
roads  were  tolerably  good,  the  tour  of  the  mountain 
might  easily  be  made  in  a  day;  and  in  the  views  from 
the  bottom  of  the  Hopper,  from  the  top  of  Bald  Moun 
tain,  from  the  summit  of  Greylock  and  from  Prospect 
there  would  be  glory  enough  for  one  day. 

DOWN    THE    HOOSAC   TO    THE    HUDSON. 

Away  from  this  pleasant  valley  some  faces  must  turn 
at  last.  The  shadow  of  Greylock  that  has  fallen  like 
a  benediction  upon  the  weary,  must  be  forsaken  for  the 
shorter  and  hotter  shadows  of  brown-stone  walls ;  and 
the  walks  and  drives  that  led  to  so  many  mountains  of 
beatitude  must  be  exchanged  for  the  level  weariness 
of  city  pavements.  From  the  Troy  and  Boston  rail 
road  station  you  trundle  slowly  out  through  the  little 
tunnel,  and  soon  the  broad  slopes  of  Mount  Adams 
and  the  beautiful  curves  of  Williams  and  Prospect  are 
left  behind  as  you  follow  the  beautiful  river  down  to 
ward  the  sea.  The  river  and  the  railroad  pass  through 
a  corner  of  Vermont ;  the  two  or  three  villages  named 
Pownal  through  which  you  pass,  are  in  that  sturdy  little 
State.  The  two  or  three  Hoosacs  which  follow  are  in 


148    FROM  THE  HUB  TO  THE  HUDSON. 

the  State  of  New  York ;  the  larger  of  these  villages 
being  known  as  Hoosac  Falls  and  distinguished  chiefly 
in  these  days  as  the  place  where  the  Walter  A.  Wood 
Mowing  Machine  Company  has  its  extensive  machine 
shops.  The  battle  of  Bennington  was  in  this  town  of 
Hoosac,  and  the  heights  upon  which  it  was  fought  are 
in  view  from  the  railroad  just  beyond  Hoosac  Junction. 
Hoosac  Falls  is  the  only  important  town  between  North 
Adams  and  Troy.  The  region  through  which  the  road 
runs  is  a  most  delightful  one,  however ;  much  of  it 
fertile  and  highly  cultivated.  The  Taghkanic  Moun 
tains  on  the  one  side  and  the  Green  Mountains  on  the 
other,  draw  close  to  the  river  as  we  pass  through  Ver 
mont,  but  beyond  Hoosac  the  Green  Mountains  retreat 
to  the  north  and  you  look  away  to  the  right  across  a 
beautiful  open  country.  Still  the  river  windeth  at  its 
own  sweet  will  through  the  meadows,  and  still  you  fol 
low  it,  glad  of  its  pleasant  company.  Its  volume  is 
swollen  since  you  knew  it  first  among  the  alders  in 
the  Adams  valley;  but  unlike  some  whose  fortunes 
grow,  its  added  floods  have  robbed  it  of  neither  gentle 
ness  nor  grace. 

"  Sing  soft,  sing  low,  our  lowland  river, 

Under  thy  banks  oflaurel  bloom; 
Softly  and  sweet  as  the  hour  beseemeth, 
Sing  us  the  songs  of  peace  and  home. 

"  The  cradle-song  of  thy  hill-side  fountains 
Here  in  thy  glory  and  strength  repeat ; 
Give  us  a  taste  of  thy  upland  music, 
Show  us  the  dance  of  thy  silver  feet. 


CANTABILE — DIMINUENDO — FINALE.          149 

"  Into  thy  dutiful  life  of  uses 

Pour  the  music  and  weave  the  flowers  ; 
With  the  song  of  birds  and  bloom  of  meadows, 
Lighten  and  gladden  thy  heart  and  hours. 

"  Sing  on  !  bring  down,  O  lowland  river, 

The  joy  of  the  hills  to  the  waiting  sea ; 
The  wealth  of  the  vales,  the  pomp  of  mountains, 
The  breath  of  the  woodlands  bear  with  thee." 

But  the  railroad  that  was  glad  to  woo  the  river  when 
the  way  was  hard  among  the  hills,  has  found  that  the 
world  is  wider,  and  coolly  withdraws  to  the  southward. 
From  the  heights  along  which  it  leads  you,  the  valley 
of  the  Hudson  soon  appears  broad  and  bright  with 
verdure;  from  the  rocky  bluff  beyond  the  valley,  the 
waters  of  the  Mohawk  tumble  down  the  cataract  that 
turns  the  mill-wheels  of  Cohoes ;  the  twin  villages  of 
Waterford  and  Lansingburgh  greet  you  from  their 
lowly  seat  by  the  Hudson;  there  are  street  lamps, 
pavements,  flagmen  at  the  crossings ;  the  speed  slack 
ens;  a  vast  and  smoky  roof,  with  massive  iron  trusses, 
hides  the  sky,  and  your  journey  ends  where  the  jour 
ney  of  y£neas  begun — within  the  walls  of  Troy. 


ADVERTISEMENTS. 


BRIGGS    &    BOLAND, 

No.  4  Wilson  Block, 
NORTH     ADAMS,    MASS., 

Merchant    Tailors, 

MANUFACTURERS  OF  AND  DEALERS   IN 

LADIES'  CLOAKS  AND  CLOAKINGS. 

DEALERS   IN 

Ready-Made     Clothing 

AND 

GENTS'   F.URNISHING  GOODS. 
Agents  for  Singer  s  Sewing  Machines. 

H.  P.  BRIGGS.  M.  BOLAND.^ 

L.  M.  BARNES   &   CO., 

DEALERS    IN 

Fine  Gold  and  Silver  Watches, 

JEWELRY  AND   GOLD    PENS. 
18  k.  Plain  Rings  made  to  order.     Silver  Ware,  &c. 

ALSO   AGENTS   FOR 

PIANOS,  MELODEONS  AND  ORGANS 

Of  the  standard  makers. 
HOPF   VIOLINS  AND  STRINGS. 

New  Sheet  Music  received  weekly.     Particular  attention  paid  to 

Repairing  Fine  Watches  and  Jewelry,  at 

No.  5   Wilson  Block, 

NORTH     ADAMS,    MASS. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


WILSON    HOUSE. 

NORTH     ADAMS,    MASS., 

Is  one  of  the  largest  and  best  appointed  Hotels  in  the  State. 
During  the  last  two  months  it  has  been  refitted,  decorated,  and 
put 

IN  COMPLETE  OR13ER  THROUGHOUT. 

THE  HOUSE  IS  FURNISHED  WITH 

Hot  and  Cold    Water  Baths. 

The  Post  Office,  the  Telegraph  Office  and  a  Billiard  Room  are 
in  the  Hotel  Building. 

WILSON    HALL, 

* 

The  largest  in  Western  Massachusetts,  is  connected  with  the 
Hotel. 

The   proprietors   will   spare   no   pains    to   make   the    House 
pleasant  and  attractive  to  all  who  may  favor  them  with  a  visit 

STREETER  &  ROGERS,  PROPRIETORS. 


ADVERTISEMENTS. 


WILLIAM    MARTIN, 

DEALER   IN 

LUMBER, 
Ready-Made  Clothing, 

AND 

GENTS'  FURNISHING   GOODS, 
Main    Street,  opposite    Wilson    House, 

NORTH    ADAMS,   MASS. 

JEWETT   &    RAND, 

DEALERS   IN 

Boots,  Shoes  and  Rubbers, 

No.  6  WILSON   BLOCK,  MAIN   STREET, 

NORTH   ADAMS,  MASS. 
I 

First-class  Custom  Work  made  to  order,  in  latest  city  styles, 
and  every  article  warranted. 

M.C.  JEWETT.  L.SC.RAND. 


SAMUEL  BOWLES  &  COMPANY, 

SPRINGFIELD,     MASS., 

OWN  AND  CONDUCT  AN  EXTENSIVE 

Book  and  Job -Printing   Office, 

BOOK    BINDERY, 

AND 

BLANK    BOOK    MANUFACTORY, 

INCLUDING  AN 

ELECTROTYPING    ESTABLISHMENT    AND    A    MANU 
FACTORY    OF    PHOTOGRAPH    ALBUMS. 


THEIR  establishment  occupies  one  of  the  largest  buildings  on  Main  street, 
Springfield,  and,  in  capacity  and  completeness,  has  no  superior  in  all  New 
England. 

They  run  twenty-five  different  Printing  Presses,  between  fifty  and  sixty  ma 
chines  of  all  kinds,  and  employ  nearly  three  hundred  workmen  and  women. 

Every  description  of  Printing,  'from  Cards  and  Handbills  to  Books;  from  the 
simplest  and  plainest  to  the  most  intricate,  elegant  and  costly. 

BINDING  of  all  sorts  and  in  every  style. 

BLANK  BOOKS  of  every  fashion,  made  to  order,  or  on  sale,  wholesale  and 
retail. 

PHOTOGRAPH  ALBUMS,  from  25  cents  to  $25  each,  singly  or  by  the  quantity, 
by  mail  or  express,  at  lowest  manufacturers'  prices. 

BOOKS  stereotyped,  printed,  bounoTand  published. 

LEGAL  BLANKS  printed  to  order,  or  on  sale  in  any  quantity. 

In  brief,  all  Job  Work  and  Manufacturing  ever  done  in  Printing  Office  and 
Bindery,  is  performed  at  this  establishment,  promptly,  of  the  best  materials,  by 
the  best  of  workmen,  and  in  the  best  manner  known  in  either  art. 

Orders  by  mail  as  faithfully  attended  to  as  those  left  in  person. 


PATENT    COUNTING-ROOM   CALENDAR. 

MESSRS.  BOWLES  &  COMPANY  manufacture  this,  the  most  convenient  Counting- 
House  Calendar  in  use,  which  is  also  a  desirable  means  of  advertising,  for  Insur 
ance  Companies,  Bankers,  Merchants,  and  business  men  generally.  Orders  filled 
at  short  notice,  in  lots  of  from  500  to  50,000,  with  the  business  cards  of  parties 
ordering  on  each  leaf,  printed  in  such  a  manner  that  the  advertisements  cannot  be 
detached  and  destroyed  as  long  as  the  Calendar  is  in  use. 


ADVERTISEMENTS. 


Travelers'  Insurance  Company 

OF    HARTFORD,    CONN. 
CASH  ASSETS,    .     .     .     $1,150,000. 

Insures  against  ACCIDENTS  causing  death  or  total  dis 
ability. 

Accident  Policies  written  by  any  authorized  Agent  for  the 
month  or  year,  insuring  $500  to  $10,000  for  fatal  accident,  or  $3 
to  $50  per  week  for  loss  of  time  caused  by  wholly  disabling  bodily 
injury.  For  merchants,  professional  or  business  men,  commer 
cial  travelers,  and  most  of  the  trades  and  mechanical  occupations 
the  cost  is  but  $5  to  $10,  annually  on  each  $1,000  insured  and  $5 
weekly  indemnity.  It  is  but  five  years  since  the  Company  was 
organized,  yet  it  has  issued  160,000  policies,  and  has  paid  nearly 

ONE    MILLION    DOLLARS 

under  claims  for  death  or  injury  by  accident. 

THIS   COMPANY  ALSO   GRANTS 

LIFE    AND    ENDOWMENT    POLICIES 

ON  THE  LOW  RATE  CASH  PLAN, 

Combining  ample  security  and  cheapness  of  cost  under  a  defi 
nite  contract.  The  Life  Department  of  the  Travelers  was  or 
ganized  in  July,  1866,  and  up  to  April,  1869,  it  had  issued  over 
Six  Thousand  Life  Policies,  a  larger  number  than  any  other 
Life  Company  of  the  same  age,  with  one  exception. 

JAMES    G.   BATTERSON,  President. 

RODNEY  DENNIS,  Secretary.  GEORGE   B.  LESTER,  Actuary. 

CHARLES   E.  WILSON,  EDWARD   V.  PRESTON, 

Assistant  Secretary.  Superintendent  of  Agencies. 

New  York  Office,  207  Broadway;  Boston,  89  Washington 
street  ;  Philadelphia,  417  South  Fourth  street ;  Western  Branch 
80  La  Salle  street,  Chicago ;  Pacific  Branch,  424  California 
street,  San  Francisco. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


PLAIN    THOUGHTS 
ON    THE    ART    OF    LIVING. 

Designed  for   Young  Men  and  Women. 
BY  WASHINGTON  GLADDEN. 

i  vol.,  i6mo.     $1.50. 

CONTENTS— The  Messenger  without  a  Message — Work  for 
Women  —  Dress  —  Manners  —  Conversation  —  Habits  —  Health 
and  Physical  Culture — Mind  Culture — Success — Stealing  as  a 
Fine  Art — Companionship  and  Society — Amusement — Respect 
ability  and  Self-respect  —  Marriage — The  Conclusion  of  the 
Whole  Matter. 

This  book  has  been  cordially  welcomed  by  the  press,  as  treat 
ing  with  much  ability,  freshness,  and  earnestness  several  of  the 
problems  which  young  people  are  meeting  daily. 

"  We  do  not  k,now  a  more  Useful  book  for  pastors,  employers,  parents,  teach 
ers  and  others  to  have  at  hand  as  a  present  for  their  young  people." — The  In 
dependent. 

"  This  book  charms  us.  It  is  so  frank,  manly,  generous,  and  true.  There  is 
not  a  '  mean  streak '  in  it,  so  to  speak ;  and  the  man  or  woman  who  heeds  its 
teachings  will  be  pure  and  noble.  Its  catholicity  of  spirit,  its  sensibleness  on 
the  so-called  'woman  question,'  its  cordial  sympathy  with  all  innocent  amuse 
ments,  its  evident  purpose  to  bless  homes  and  hearts,  should  secure  it  a  wel 
come  wherever  there  are  men  and  women  who  think  nobly,  act  bravely,  and 
love  purely  " — Ladies'  Repository  (Boston). 

"  It  is  a  healthful  volume,  well  written,  and  with  pertinent  force  in  style  and 
illustration.  It  might  appropriately  be  called  a  '  Guide  to  Health,  Happiness, 
and  Success.'  It  goes  straight  to  the  point,  is  honest,  and  at  the  same  time 

fenial  and  attractive.     A  young  man  or  woman  can  have  no  better  companion, 
t  is,  in  a  word,  a  guide,  counsellor,  and  friend." — St.  Louis  Democrat. 
"  If  anything  can  supply  the  want  of  common  sense  in  life,  this  book  can  do 
it.     And  it  is  a  very  valuable  adjunct  to  that  indispensable  commodity. — Al 
bany  Journal. 

"It  is  utterly  free  from  the  'goodiness'  which  spoils  most  such  works. 
Freshness  and  thoughtfulness  on  every  page  lift  it  above  the  great  mass  of  the 
indigestible  literary  provender  set  before  young  readers.  The  subject  of  re 
ligion  is  not  heedlessly  and  tastelessly  thrust  on  the  reader's  attention,  while 
an  under-current  of  Christian  thought  runs  through  the  whole,  and  wells  up  at 
the  close  into  an  earnest  plea  that  the  young  will  take  Christ  as  their  Master 
and  their  King.  The  book  deserves  to  be  ranked  beside  Beecher's  'Lectures 
to  Young  Men.'" — American  Presbyterian. 

"This  is  a  little  volume  of  morality  that  is  not  dull.  ....  We  commend 
these  plain  thoughts  for  the  unusual  character  of  putting  good  things  modestly." 

New  York  Herald 

"  There  is  more  solid,  practical  advice  to  young  men  and  women  in  this  little 
volume  than  most  bovs  and  girls  ever  receive  from  parents,  teachers,  and 
preachers. — Catholic  Telegraph. 

For  sale  by  all  Booksellers.     Sent,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the  Pub- 

i;s/*rs,  FIELDS,  OSGOOD  &  CO.,  BOSTON. 


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